Hmm, I think I might just add a little more to yesterday's piece as it probably needs a better ending than it got.
Crossing the finish line Birds sang in the trees around the Shire for the first time in eight months and an opportunistic rabbit bounded across the grass in front of a couple of hobbit houses. That proved to be too optimistic as a moment later it was caught in a snare and hoisted into the air to dangle, terrified, by its back legs until Gammer Egglegs came out to cut it down, cut its throat and turn it into rabbit pie. The hobbits slowly woke and moved around, wondering what the change in the air was. A couple murmured that perhaps Sauron had returned, and a couple, more realistic, muttered that maybe that Frodo was back and planning on staying. Some noted that Sombre had left recently to go to Gondor (with a disapproving again tacked on for good measure) and opined that that might be the cause of it. When the first accidental "Gandalf" slipped out and nothing happened though, the ripples started to spread. By the time the Ent turned up and settled at the edge of the village, its roots snaking through the earth creating small runnels here and there, pushing cabbages out of the ground in hobbit gardens and tipping cows over if they didn't move out of the way, people were saying "Gandalf" under their breath three or four times a minute and looking around, marvelling that the world stayed still and fireballs didn't erupt from the Inn of the Shire. There was a sense of gaiety in the air, almost a joyfulness like the calm after a bad storm. Frodo came out of the Inn of the Shire brushing his air out of his eyes and looking like he'd not long woken up. He ignored the muttering and whispering that started up as he walked down the main street and then turned off, cutting across Lobelia Sackville-Baggins's flower garden (full of thistles and cow-root), to greet the Ent. A couple of minutes later the Orc barman at the Inn came outside and started picking up chairs and tables and trying to put them back together. And so, when Gandalf himself emerged another twenty minutes later, wearing a clean robe for the first time in eight months, carrying a staff that had no skulls on it whatsoever, and with his white hair and beard gleaming like the full moon on a cloudless night, it was almost unremarkable. Frodo was struggling with the Ent, who preferred to talk using sentences that took months to pronounce and disliked people who garbled their words so much they could be said in under five minutes each. Gandalf smiled as though he'd found two of his favourite people in all the world and worked some magic; the air sparkled around them and there was a the smell you get when pine-wood is freshly sawn and between here and there became an invisible gap of two months that allowed the Ent and the others to communicate easily. "The Elves say that the finish line is in sight," said the Ent ponderously, its roots finally reaching the river. There was mild consternation from the hobbits in the village as the water level dropped a full 8cm immediately. "They say that Morgoth is weak and can be finished now. They are calling a war counsel." "Fools," said Frodo immediately. "Morgoth is weak, but he's still Maiar. The Elves can't unmake Ea's own creation." "I can," said Gandalf. Frodo froze, his face a mask of fear. "But I'm not going to." Frodo relaxed again. "I guess we need to have a word with the Elves then," he said. "Another errand. How jolly!"
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Hmm, I think I might just add a little more to yesterday's piece as it probably needs a better ending than it got.
Crossing the finish line
Birds sang in the trees around the Shire for the first time in eight months and an opportunistic rabbit bounded across the grass in front of a couple of hobbit houses. That proved to be too optimistic as a moment later it was caught in a snare and hoisted into the air to dangle, terrified, by its back legs until Gammer Egglegs came out to cut it down, cut its throat and turn it into rabbit pie. The hobbits slowly woke and moved around, wondering what the change in the air was. A couple murmured that perhaps Sauron had returned, and a couple, more realistic, muttered that maybe that Frodo was back and planning on staying. Some noted that Sombre had left recently to go to Gondor (with a disapproving again tacked on for good measure) and opined that that might be the cause of it. When the first accidental "Gandalf" slipped out and nothing happened though, the ripples started to spread.
By the time the Ent turned up and settled at the edge of the village, its roots snaking through the earth creating small runnels here and there, pushing cabbages out of the ground in hobbit gardens and tipping cows over if they didn't move out of the way, people were saying "Gandalf" under their breath three or four times a minute and looking around, marvelling that the world stayed still and fireballs didn't erupt from the Inn of the Shire. There was a sense of gaiety in the air, almost a joyfulness like the calm after a bad storm.
Frodo came out of the Inn of the Shire brushing his air out of his eyes and looking like he'd not long woken up. He ignored the muttering and whispering that started up as he walked down the main street and then turned off, cutting across Lobelia Sackville-Baggins's flower garden (full of thistles and cow-root), to greet the Ent. A couple of minutes later the Orc barman at the Inn came outside and started picking up chairs and tables and trying to put them back together. And so, when Gandalf himself emerged another twenty minutes later, wearing a clean robe for the first time in eight months, carrying a staff that had no skulls on it whatsoever, and with his white hair and beard gleaming like the full moon on a cloudless night, it was almost unremarkable.
Frodo was struggling with the Ent, who preferred to talk using sentences that took months to pronounce and disliked people who garbled their words so much they could be said in under five minutes each. Gandalf smiled as though he'd found two of his favourite people in all the world and worked some magic; the air sparkled around them and there was a the smell you get when pine-wood is freshly sawn and between here and there became an invisible gap of two months that allowed the Ent and the others to communicate easily.
"The Elves say that the finish line is in sight," said the Ent ponderously, its roots finally reaching the river. There was mild consternation from the hobbits in the village as the water level dropped a full 8cm immediately. "They say that Morgoth is weak and can be finished now. They are calling a war counsel."
"Fools," said Frodo immediately. "Morgoth is weak, but he's still Maiar. The Elves can't unmake Ea's own creation."
"I can," said Gandalf. Frodo froze, his face a mask of fear. "But I'm not going to." Frodo relaxed again. "I guess we need to have a word with the Elves then," he said. "Another errand. How jolly!"
Greg - fair enough! Glad the prompt gave you the chance to do so.
I was not expecting a follow up to yesterday's writing, much less so soon, so this was a delightful surprise :)
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