"Excuse me," He walked up to the nearest person who carried something similar to a sword (it was a short black club), "Would you happen to know where Platform 9 � is? I have a train I need to be on board."
"Platform 9 �?" The little policewoman fingered her stick nervously, "I�ve never heard of it." She turned to the policeman who was on duty with her, and whispered, "I told you Tony Blair never should have legalized certain narcotics!"
"Hmm." Aragorn murmured nervously, "I really need to be on board."
"Do you have a pass?" She asked, "Maybe that will help. I�m really sure there isn�t such a platform."
"Yes, yes, I do have one!" Finally! Something he actually could do! Something he had! He dug about in his pocket and pulled out the parchment pass Adhara had given him, and for some reason, it was all tangled up in his kingsfoil leaves. Apologetically, he plucked these off before handing the parchment over. "Just some dried leaves."
"Strange." The policeman�s eyes narrowed, "You carry dried leaves with you?"
"Yes, they�re for . . ." Aragorn paused, "Medicinal purposes." The two officers exchanged a look. "I use them to heal people! You know? Kingsfoil?"
"I think you�d better come with us." She spoke again, and from her pocket, she withdrew what seemed to be some kind of silver mechanism, "I�m going to have to cuff you."
"Cuff me?" Aragorn didn�t know why she would want to hit him, but was quite relieved when she snapped twin silver bracelets across his wrists, and he tested the chain in between. Effective. Quite strong. And pretty. Maybe he should ask for a souvenir pair to take home to his Mirkwood elf buddy.
"If you would, follow me." The police woman led the way seemingly out of the station, and Aragorn looked at the policeman behind him. "You are being detained for the possession of illegal . . . narcotics and . . ." She paused, "You have your right to remain silent and anything you say may be used against you in court. You have a right for legal council . . ."
Aragorn stared dumbly at her, as she led them to what seemed to be a stylish metal box with four wheels, opened a hatch, and asked him to step inside. He looked around, "Is this Platform 9 �?"
"No." The policeman roughly shoved him against the car, "Stand still." And began patting him down, and his face registered a mix between pity and fear when he came upon the sword, "We�re going to have to take this from you."
"I am Aragorn, son of Arathorn!" Aragorn protested weakly, "What are you doing?"
"I�m taking away your weapons. It�s under Section 932 of the Policeman Act in the British Constitution if you ever want to look it up." The police woman supplied as her partner locked up the sword in another hatch of the metal box, "Do you have anything else you�d like to surrender at this point in time?"
"Aragorn son of Arathorn does not surrender." Aragorn gritted his teeth. "You have taken advantage of an unarmed man. I would like a chance at Trial by Combat. Swords, clubs, your choice."
"We do not have Trial by Combat." The policewoman rolled her eyes, "And no one calls themselves Aragorn son of whomever." She picked up a clipboard from within her vehicle, "So what is your name?"
"Aragorn, son of Arathorn." Aragorn replied primly, "Heir of Isildur."
"Alright," She sighed, "I�ll need your real name for the records."
"Fine." He rolled his eyes. "Esslar."
"Surname? Or is that your given name?" She paused, chewing at the end of her pen.
"Elrond gave me the name Estel, if that�s what you want." He frowned and when she hesitated, he continued, "Lord Elrond is my foster father."
"Alright." She nodded, "Shall do." And began writing rapidly.
"Are you writing down bad things about me?" Aragorn frowned, "I don�t like it when people do that. Who are you anyway?"
"We are Bobbies." They announced cheerfully, "And we work for the British Government, hauling criminals to gaol!"
"Oh. So you are Bobbie and you are Bobbie too." Aragorn sighed, "Nice names."
"Oh, get in the car and shut your trap!" The male officer shoved Aragorn into the metal box which contained seats and told him to sit still. "Until we get to the Station."
"I thought it was a platform!" Aragorn protested, "Is it Station 9 �?"
"No. There is no such thing as Station 9 �." The officer rolled his eyes, "When you arrive, we will permit you one phone call. Whom will you call?"
"Err . . ." Aragorn looked about nervously, finally feeling the finality of this situation (getting hauled off by British Bobbies to some gaol was NOT his idea of a good time), "Elrond Half-Elven."
"Oh," The policeman stared at him, "Do you know his phone number?"
"No." Aragorn admitted, "Can I send an e-mail instead? I don�t know his e-mail, but I have this one e-mail address I have stuck in the back of my mind. It�s one of my friends. I can�t remember whom. But anyway, if I e-mail them, they�ll get me out of here."
"Fine." The officer shoved a laptop onto Aragorn�s lap, "Type."
Taking a deep breath to calm his shaking hands, Aragorn began to type, poking the keys one at a time with his fingers. English keyboards were always tricky. Why couldn�t they use Elven, anyway? Gosh. Just sound out the words . . . Help! Some people with big black clubs think that I am some type of criminal and have placed me in a metal box with wheels and have slapped some kind of bracelet across my wrists. I am in London. I can�t find Platform 9 �. Get ME OUT OF HERE! And as he hoped that this was Gandalf�s address, or at least Arwen�s, but then again, maybe Haldir�s, Aragorn sighed and hit the �send� button before handing the laptop back. The policeman stared at the e-mail. Alright. It worked. He could see why the address was easy to remember.
In the send box the address read: [email protected] and quite a distance away, a computerized voice announced cheerfully, "You�ve got MAIL!"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Strangers from foreign lands, you have all been summoned here to deal with the threat of Mordor. You will unite, or you will fall. Every race is bound to the fate. This one doom!" Elrond consulted his cue cards as be began his Council meeting, and Legolas breathed a sigh of relief that his clothing was not the same as Elrond�s (oh, that was embarrassing!). The entire council was silent, and everyone was very well behaved. The Ring had been extracted from the Nose of Gimli and was now held in Frodo�s sweaty hands (he was still nervous) and Gandalf had been instructed to leave his staff at home. Furthermore, the hobbit now sat on a low footstool which suited his height quite well.
Everyone was silent. Doom was a very powerful word and everyone needed some time to think about it. Everyone had their own interpretation of this word. To Elrond, it was the fall of Rivendell. To Boromir, the fall of Minas Tirith. To Gimli, the loss of his axe. To Gloin, the fall of the dwarves. To Gandalf, the loss of his magic. To Legolas, the loss of his REE catalogue. Everyone had their own opinion. They all gave a huge sigh. Doom.
"Bring forth the ring, Frodo." Elrond gestured to the pestle and Frodo hopped down from his stool, stood on tip-toes (this was well rehearsed), placing the ring in the center of the cold stone.
"So it is true!" Boromir sighed wistfully, "Practice does make perfect!" The hobbit blushed.
"The doom of Man!" Some lord pointed out, with a shake of his head.
"The doom of Elves!" An elven lord gasped.
"The doom of Dwarfs!" Gloin whispered harshly.
"The doom of REE!" Legolas squeaked.
"We have but one choice." Elrond had settled himself into both his chair and into the role of a prophet of doom, "The ring must be cast back into the fiery chasms from whence it came!" Everyone nodded, "And one of YOU must do this!" Everyone fell silent under Elrond�s gaze.
"One does not simply WALK into MORDOR!" Boromir groaned, "It�s black gates are guarded by more than just orcs! They also have semi-machine guns, V2 fighter jets and nuclear submarines! Not with ten thousand men could you do this! It is folly!"
"Could you do it with ten thousand dwarfs?" Gloin asked.
"No. Dwarfs are stupid." Some elf lord piped up, "You have to use ten thousand elves!"
"This is all folly!" Boromir screamed, "We have to NUKE them!"
"We�re not going to NUKE Mordor!" Elrond raised his hands and everyone fell silent, "Okay, we are going to tackle this like any other. There�s going to be someone who needs to take the ring. Now who will do it?" Everyone was silent and no one made eye contact. "Alright, is there a volunteer?"
As if in unison, everyone on the left of the semi-circle raised their right arm and pointed to the person next to them. Everyone on the right of the semi-circle raised their left arm and pointed to the person next to them. The person in the middle (the person on the left was pointing to him and the person on the right was pointing to him) happened to be a certain vain elf who wasn�t going to do anything that would jeopardize is looks, so he lifted his arms and pointed straight ahead at Elrond.
"Wait." Lord Elrond sputtered, "I said one of YOU! Not one of ME!"
"Okay, fine." An elven lord muttered, "Then the one sitting in the middle."
"NO!" Legolas screamed, "Not ME! The one sitting on the ends!"
"NO!" Frodo and Sirius (who were sitting at the ends) hopped up and screamed, "NOT US!"
Gandalf didn�t think this was going anywhere so he placed a Unforgivable Curse on Frodo Baggins and the Hobbit squeaked, "I�ll take it!" And when Gandalf took off the curse, Frodo gave him a dirty look. "NO! I WON�T"
"YOU SAID IT!" Legolas hopped onto his chair and did a little dance, "Ole! I don�t have to go!" And snapped his fingers and cheerfully, "Ole! Ole! Ole!" And he hopped off his chair and did a Mexican Hat Dance on top of the pestle around the ring, swishing his cloak as though it were skirts, "OLE!"
"Are all Mirkwood elves this stupid?" An elven lord from Rivendell asked, and angrily, Legolas kicked the Ring at him, and the ring bounced off the elf�s forehead and into a very pretty little white tiled pool of goldfish.
"MY GOLDFISH POND!" Elrond lost all sense of dignity and dove into the pond, clothes and all, to grab the ring and pulled the offending thing out of his pond, "ARG! Legolas! YOU ARE BANNED FROM RIVENDELL!"
"Then where am I supposed to go?" Legolas snarled, "Mirkwood?"
"You can join me on my quest!" Frodo piped up, "I need a fashion consultant!"
"Na-na-na-na-boo-boo YOU CAN�T MAKE ME!" The elf stuck out his tongue and sang, "HA HA!"
"Oh, you all are so . . ." Elrond tossed the ring onto the pestle. And made a move to sit down.
Everyone was silent. All eyes were on the elven-lord as he slowly sat down in his tall wooden throne and the silence of the clearing was quickly interrupted by � PHLAAAAT!
"Oh man!" Legolas grabbed his nose, "Who did it?" He eyed Gimli accusingly.
"If it was me, you�d be dead!" The dwarf laughed, and pointed, "I know a flatus discharge when I hear one! IT WAS . . ." He paused for drama, "LORD ELROND!"
"NO!" Elrond screamed as the whole Council burst out laughing, "It was not me!" The elven lords at his sides waved at the air in front of their noses and turned green.
"Oh man, this stinks!" One of them screamed, "Elrond, did you have to?"
"Arg!" The elven-lord rose and searched about his throne and finally found the offending piece of material. A whoopee cushion. Between two bent fingers, Elrond grasped its edge so that he would have to contact as little of it as possible. He held it in front of him at arm�s length, as far away as he could get it from his body. His voice and his gaze were icy cold, "Who did this?"
No one could hold his gaze and all stared at the ground, so Elrond demanded, "Who placed this offending piece of material on my chair!"
Everyone was so silent, you could hear half a pin drop. Elrond was furious, the veins in his neck positively bulged and his eyes were so large . . . "Even if you do not confess, I have a pretty good idea who it was." He scanned his gaze along the semi-circle of councilors and finally, his freezing gaze settled on the elf in the middle. Legolas Greenleaf of Mirkwood quivered slightly.
"It wasn�t me!" He piped up, and Elrond�s eyes bulged even more, "You have no proof!"
Elrond took the plastic whoopee cushion in both hands, stretched it, and held it up for all to see. There, against the bright red latex the words, Genuine Whoopee Cushion � Proudly Made in Mirkwood were displayed very clearly.
"Someone�s trying to frame me!" Legolas whispered, shocked, "Now why would they do that?" He paused, and thought, "They are jealous of my pretty little nose!"
"No one is jealous of your pretty little nose." Elrond snarled, "And I believe you know VERY WELL, perhaps FAR too well how this whoopee cushion found its way onto my chair."
Legolas pretended to search his pockets and adapted a perplexed look on his face, "Oh Lord Elrond! You have found my whoopee cushion! I must have dropped it when I was Mexican dancing."
"Would you like it back?" Elrond snarled, "GO TO YOUR ROOM!"
"My room?" His bottom lip quivering, tears filled Legolas� eyes, "I thought you liked me!"
"We like you all too much," An elven lord rolled his eyes, "Just get out of here!"
"Oh, all of you!" Legolas wept, "Are just jealous because of my pretty little nose!" And without a further word, he ran noisily out of the Council, in tears. Sirius gripped the arm of his chair tightly. Although he didn�t approve of the elf�s performance, he did feel pity for him.
"As we were saying," Elrond settled down, and folded the whoopee cushion into a little square, tossing this away, "Frodo, you had volunteered to take the ring?"
As all the excitement was now over, Frodo the hobbit had reconsidered his position, "If it will protect the Shire, I shall!"
Sirius moaned to himself. What chance did a little hobbit have in the big wide world if he didn�t have anyone to hold his hand when he crossed the street? He stood, "If by my life or death I can protect you, I will." He paused before pledging his wand. Maybe wands were not fashionable anymore. He looked around. Everyone seemed to be wearing swords. "You have my sword."
"You have my bow, Frodo!" Legolas who had come running back into the Council screamed, excitedly, "Don�t you dare think, Aragorn son of Arathorn, you can go off on an adventure without me!"
"And my a**." Gimli hollered and Gloin gave him a very deadly look, "I mean, axe! Axe! I mean axe! Honestly!"
"No you don�t." Legolas rolled his eyes. "What�s all this? What�s all this?"
"Oh, oh, oh!" Gandalf stood too, "Don�t forget me! I�m supposed to pledge my services before you Aragorn! You budged me!"
"Oh that is folly!" Boromir stood, "If this indeed is the will of the Council, then Gondor will see it done!"
"You have to help too." Legolas pouted, "There is not room on this journey for mere observers."
"I am no mere observer!" Boromir snarled, "I am Boromir, son of Denethur!"
"He is no mere Ranger!" The elf snarled right back, "He is Aragorn, son of Arathorn!" Sirius gave them both a strange look.
Elrond whipped out a large camera, "Okay, everyone. Crowd around the tree over there, the one whose leaves are all red. Group photo!"
Legolas grinned broadly and lined up with Sirius, Frodo, Boromir, Gimli and Gandalf as Elrond took picture after picture after picture. "There." The elven-lord finally announced, "You shall be . . . the Fellowship of the � "
"Wait! Wait! Wait!" Sam quickly ran from where he had been hiding behind a clump of bushes, and pushed Elrond aside, "Mr. Frodo isn�t going anywhere without me!"
"No, indeed. It is hardly possible to separate you two," Elrond pretended to be stern, but had a smile on his face, "Even when he is summoned to a secret Council and you are not."
"What about when they go to the washroom?" Legolas asked.
"Wait! Wait! We�re coming too!" Pippin and Merry (who had been pretending to be monkeys in the tree), dropped down and screamed, "You�ll have to tie us up in a sack to stop us!" Elrond did not need any pretending skills to look stern.
"Besides," Pippin sniffed, "You need people of intelligence on this sort of mission . . . quest . . . thing!"
"Well," Merry rolled his eyes, "That rules you out, Pip!"
"And you too Legolas!" Gimli shoved at the elf with a sharp elbow.
"And you too Gimli!" The elf snarled back, "You idiot."
"So be it!" Elrond finally grinned, as though relieved, "Nine companions! You shall be the Fellowship of the Ring!"
"Great!" Pippin grinned, "Where are we going?" Silence fell. Everyone gave Pippin a strange look.
"Hey!" Legolas piped up, suddenly, "Do we get to do group pictures again?"