LOTR sillyfic: "At the Edge of the World"
Jan. 5th, 2004 04:59 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
icepixieSomeone's been reading too much Silmarillion. That would be me. This bit of silliness inspired by God-knows-what, but Muse kicked me about, oh, fifteen minutes ago, and here it is--an unbetaed(but spell-checked!) 700 words of pure...I don't even know. Eeek.
DISCLAIMER: Tolkien is rolling in his grave right now. He won't want 'em back.
FEEDBACK/ARCHIVING: Write me at author1@comcast.net if you don't hate me after reading this. Archive if you like. Tell me if you do.
RATING: G.
CATEGORY: Humor. Definitely.
SUMMARY: Year 120 of the Fourth Age. Legolas and Gimli set off for Valinor. This is what they find.
NOTES: Um...I'm sorry? Please forgive me?
"At the Edge of the World"
by Icepixie, January 2004
* * *
"We're here, Gimli," Legolas Greenleaf said as he steered his grey ship into a dock at the Undying Lands. "This is Valinor." Legolas and the dwarf eagerly left the ship and stepped upon the white shore.
A white shore which they quickly discovered was not sand, but snow. Very cold snow. Even the famed resistant-to-all-weather Elven physiology was having a tough time with this one, and Gimli's beard formed icicles within only a few moments.
"Are you sure this is where we were supposed to land, elf?" Gimli shouted over the sudden roaring wind that had sprung up.
Legolas looked around, blinking at the onslaught of snowflakes that the wind had brought. "I know not what this is," he answered. "Perhaps we should venture further inland."
Thus agreed, the two friends traipsed through the snow in a general inland direction, though it was hard to tell with the blowing snow. The further they walked, the colder it got and the deeper the snow became. The only significant landmark they passed was a pole, about Legolas' height when he walked on top of the snow, with red and white stripes up the length of it and a gold knob on top. Neither elf nor dwarf knew what it could mean.
Eventually, they saw a light in the distance and hurried toward it--well, as much as Gimli, up to his chest in snow, could hurry. Finally, though, they reached the wooden dwelling and, deciding to disperse with the formalities before hypothermia became an option, opened the door.
Neither knew what they had expected, but it certainly wasn't a vast, cavernous room, lit warmly by firelight, filled with assembly lines worked by...elves?
Legolas blinked and looked closer. Was that Elrond down there putting a model train together? But the venerable elf was now only barely as tall as a hobbit, perhaps three and a half feet. And working beside, him, sewing clothes fit in size for a doll--was that Galadriel? And what were they all singing--something about bells and horses and sleigh rides, was it? They didn't sound very happy to be singing, not like elves had in Middle-Earth.
Gimli and Legolas exchanged glances. Something was very, very wrong.
Before they had time to ruminate further, a large, fat man in a red suit stepped in front of them. "Ho, ho, ho!" he cried. "Welcome to Valinor!"
Legolas stepped back involuntarily. "M--Manwë?" he half-whispered.
"Yes, indeed!" the jolly old man said. "Although the men of Earth--not Middle-Earth, but the full-sized one--know me as Santa Claus, Father Christmas, Kris Kringle, and many other names. I answer to all of them." He beamed at Legolas and Gimli, who were busily searching for escape routes while trying to be surreptitious about it. Both had noticed that the door they had come through had mysteriously disappeared.
Gimli decided that he'd had quite enough of this. "Well, it was very nice to meet you, Sir Vala, but we must depart. Places to be, orcs to kill...you know." Legolas was nodding enthusiastically, and they turned to leave. Through a wall, if necessary.
"Oh, but you've only just gotten here!" Manwë/Santa Claus said, sounding somewhat less jolly. "Besides, Legolas, you're already shrinking. Legolas turned to look at the old man in horror, noting that, indeed, his visual perspective was considerably lower. "Of course, master dwarf--I'm afraid I don't know your name, you weren't on our scheduled list of arrivals--you don't need to be any shorter than you are. You'll fit right in."
Legolas had taken on the look of a hunted animal. "What is this place? What have you done to us?"
Manwë/Santa smiled again. "Why, it's the Elvenhome, dear Legolas. Here you spend the rest of time making toys for the children of men, helping to put smiles on their little faces every Christmas morning, until the end of days. Ho, ho, ho!"
Legolas hadn't cried since the Second Age, but he felt like it now. He looked again at Gimli and saw despair in his friend's eyes. There was surely no way out of this one.
The End
So this is my first fic and new writing-fandom of the new year. I hope it isn't some kind of sign...
DISCLAIMER: Tolkien is rolling in his grave right now. He won't want 'em back.
FEEDBACK/ARCHIVING: Write me at author1@comcast.net if you don't hate me after reading this. Archive if you like. Tell me if you do.
RATING: G.
CATEGORY: Humor. Definitely.
SUMMARY: Year 120 of the Fourth Age. Legolas and Gimli set off for Valinor. This is what they find.
NOTES: Um...I'm sorry? Please forgive me?
"At the Edge of the World"
by Icepixie, January 2004
* * *
"We're here, Gimli," Legolas Greenleaf said as he steered his grey ship into a dock at the Undying Lands. "This is Valinor." Legolas and the dwarf eagerly left the ship and stepped upon the white shore.
A white shore which they quickly discovered was not sand, but snow. Very cold snow. Even the famed resistant-to-all-weather Elven physiology was having a tough time with this one, and Gimli's beard formed icicles within only a few moments.
"Are you sure this is where we were supposed to land, elf?" Gimli shouted over the sudden roaring wind that had sprung up.
Legolas looked around, blinking at the onslaught of snowflakes that the wind had brought. "I know not what this is," he answered. "Perhaps we should venture further inland."
Thus agreed, the two friends traipsed through the snow in a general inland direction, though it was hard to tell with the blowing snow. The further they walked, the colder it got and the deeper the snow became. The only significant landmark they passed was a pole, about Legolas' height when he walked on top of the snow, with red and white stripes up the length of it and a gold knob on top. Neither elf nor dwarf knew what it could mean.
Eventually, they saw a light in the distance and hurried toward it--well, as much as Gimli, up to his chest in snow, could hurry. Finally, though, they reached the wooden dwelling and, deciding to disperse with the formalities before hypothermia became an option, opened the door.
Neither knew what they had expected, but it certainly wasn't a vast, cavernous room, lit warmly by firelight, filled with assembly lines worked by...elves?
Legolas blinked and looked closer. Was that Elrond down there putting a model train together? But the venerable elf was now only barely as tall as a hobbit, perhaps three and a half feet. And working beside, him, sewing clothes fit in size for a doll--was that Galadriel? And what were they all singing--something about bells and horses and sleigh rides, was it? They didn't sound very happy to be singing, not like elves had in Middle-Earth.
Gimli and Legolas exchanged glances. Something was very, very wrong.
Before they had time to ruminate further, a large, fat man in a red suit stepped in front of them. "Ho, ho, ho!" he cried. "Welcome to Valinor!"
Legolas stepped back involuntarily. "M--Manwë?" he half-whispered.
"Yes, indeed!" the jolly old man said. "Although the men of Earth--not Middle-Earth, but the full-sized one--know me as Santa Claus, Father Christmas, Kris Kringle, and many other names. I answer to all of them." He beamed at Legolas and Gimli, who were busily searching for escape routes while trying to be surreptitious about it. Both had noticed that the door they had come through had mysteriously disappeared.
Gimli decided that he'd had quite enough of this. "Well, it was very nice to meet you, Sir Vala, but we must depart. Places to be, orcs to kill...you know." Legolas was nodding enthusiastically, and they turned to leave. Through a wall, if necessary.
"Oh, but you've only just gotten here!" Manwë/Santa Claus said, sounding somewhat less jolly. "Besides, Legolas, you're already shrinking. Legolas turned to look at the old man in horror, noting that, indeed, his visual perspective was considerably lower. "Of course, master dwarf--I'm afraid I don't know your name, you weren't on our scheduled list of arrivals--you don't need to be any shorter than you are. You'll fit right in."
Legolas had taken on the look of a hunted animal. "What is this place? What have you done to us?"
Manwë/Santa smiled again. "Why, it's the Elvenhome, dear Legolas. Here you spend the rest of time making toys for the children of men, helping to put smiles on their little faces every Christmas morning, until the end of days. Ho, ho, ho!"
Legolas hadn't cried since the Second Age, but he felt like it now. He looked again at Gimli and saw despair in his friend's eyes. There was surely no way out of this one.
So this is my first fic and new writing-fandom of the new year. I hope it isn't some kind of sign...
no subject
Date: 2004-01-06 09:01 am (UTC)Except for really strange pages about people who think they really are elves...
What people think of as elves with Santa Claus is really more like a pixie or a prankster, while the elves that Tolkien first created, and I'll credit him with being the first true fantasy author, are very more like a magical race - which is what he intended them to be.
While I give Tolkien all kinds of credit for being the first modern fantasy author, let me point you in the direction of Lord Dunsany, who was writing in the 1920s. He's the first one I've seen to use Tolkien-style elves (in The King of Elf-Land's Daughter, for one). He's quite interesting--you should check him out. It's kind of like if Shakespeare were doing fantasy. Sort of.
And I agree that Santa's elves are more like pixies. I guess British authors decided that that wasn't as much fun to write about. ;)
no subject
Date: 2004-01-06 09:16 am (UTC)I'd also like to point out that a large portion of the plot for The Hobbit was written while Tolkien was in the trenches in WWI. So wherever he got his idea for elves from, it most have been something even older. Given his connections to Celtish and Norse mythology, I guess it's possible that they come from those origins.
guess British authors decided that that wasn't as much fun to write about.
I don't think people would believe in pixies as mystical immortal beings with an innate magic, do you?
no subject
Date: 2004-01-06 05:30 pm (UTC)Just to clarify, I wans't saying Dunsany had any influence on Tolkien. :) Great minds think alike, I suppose. And probably one or both of them got the tall/magical elves idea from the Tuatha de Danann of Celtic mythology--the warrior/godlike immortal first inhabitants of Ireland who hung around Tara and all that, and are asleep under said hill now, according to the mythology. I vaguely remember seeing that written somewhere, and it's quite plausible--they are very similar.
I don't think people would believe in pixies as mystical immortal beings with an innate magic, do you?
Heh. Nope. Although I don't know about Tolkien's elves being innately magical. I don't remember any use of "magic" in anything LOTR-related except for the bit in the FOTR movie where Arwen calls the water horses on the Nazgul. I guess there's also the three elven rings and the silmarils, although they seemed more either elemental (Celebrimbor just happened to capture something powerful) or Valar-related, since Feanor captured the light of the trees, which were created by one of the Valar. Other than that, elves just appear to have really, really good eyesight/hearing/health. Plus the immortality thing, but that isn't exactly magic in my book. I know other authors have had elves be magical, but I don't know if I would really classify Tolkien's elves that way, at least not anyone who doesn't hold a ring (which leaves everyone but Elrond and Galadriel). It's entirely possible that I'm forgetting/misreading something, though.
no subject
Date: 2004-01-07 02:28 pm (UTC)In the book, it was Elrond that caused the river to rise, not Arwen. However, that glory of Lothlorien stems from the innate magic of the Elves. The way that Glorfindel appeared to the Nazgul who had not entered the river and scared them into the river in the first book, shows the true nature of their being - a figure of white shining light.
Their magic isn't magic in what would be considered a modern fantasy sense - like casting spells and the like. But there is some control of the elements, the growth of trees. Orcs simply can't enter Lothlorien for the most part - although part of that is because they are killed off by the elves.
When the sword is reforged, in the book anyway, it is so powerful because it is done so with Elf magic. Gandalf's sword also is an Elf sword, and has an innate magic making it stronger and faster.
There are lots of small references, not big ones. It's just different from what anyone who has looked at D&D would consider magic.
no subject
Date: 2004-01-07 04:18 pm (UTC)So the river rose in the book? I remember that it was Glorfindel who brought Frodo across the fords, but I couldn't remember if the river rose as well or if it was just that the Nazgul couldn't follow.
However, that glory of Lothlorien stems from the innate magic of the Elves.
I thought the glory of Lothlorien and Rivendell was because of the rings, though, which I consider more like the power of gods captured by superiour craftsmanship, not really "magic," per se.
*snippity-snip*
Hmmm. Well, I definitely didn't catch most of that, but then again, probably no one catches everything in these books without several readings. ;) And by "magic," I was kind of using Gandalf as my marker; fireworks, the white-light-driving-back-the-army, etc. etc. Or Aragorn's magical healing powers that come with being king.
no subject
Date: 2004-01-07 05:45 pm (UTC)Well, a wall of water came down it. Although in the book Frodo rode himself across the ford, and Glorfindel just brought him there. He was nowhere near as out of it in the book.
I thought the glory of Lothlorien and Rivendell was because of the rings
Not really, because the elves had to hide the rings so that Sauron didn't know they existed. Also, they weren't forged by Sauron as the other rings were. But while I think the rings did harness some of the power, what happened in Rivendell and Lothlorien was more than just attributed to the rings.
Or Aragorn's magical healing powers that come with being king.
Those, I think, come because he is descended of the kings of Numenor, which seem to have some sort of ties to the Elves, and it's only the kings that have that healing power.
no subject
Date: 2004-01-08 01:25 pm (UTC)Gah. I need to reread FOTR, obviously.
Those, I think, come because he is descended of the kings of Numenor, which seem to have some sort of ties to the Elves, and it's only the kings that have that healing power.
Not really, because the elves had to hide the rings so that Sauron didn't know they existed. Also, they weren't forged by Sauron as the other rings were. But while I think the rings did harness some of the power, what happened in Rivendell and Lothlorien was more than just attributed to the rings.
I thought the rings were to sort of help an innate ruling power along, and in the case of the elven rings, to keep Lothlorien and Rivendell from the creeping crud of time. Although I think you're right, it would take more than your average person to wield the power of a ring, and I do remember that they had to hide them for a while or Sauron would come after them (even though he didn't forge/control the rings).
Those, I think, come because he is descended of the kings of Numenor, which seem to have some sort of ties to the Elves, and it's only the kings that have that healing power.
Another of the concessions to Elros and his line when he decided to be mortal, perhaps? I remember something about Elrond having healing powers (i.e. when Frodo's there), so perhaps it's an inherited thing that just happens to be another way to tell who's king, 'cause it's in that line.