Issue 41, Volume 2, November
Editors: Perian, Xara.
Primary Reporter: Ivy.
Chief Correspondent: Prongs.
Columnists: Lady Morrigan Shadow, Padfoot, Cerridwen.
Contributor(s): Frida Belmonte.
In this issue:
Inconvenient Inspiration by Xara.
It's All Perian's Fault by Lady Morrigan Shadow.
Frida Belmonte - The True Story by Perian.
Interview with an Artist by Xara.
In every issue:
Fanfiction: This Fortnight: Midnight Flower by Cerridwen, Part VI.
Ivy's Newsletter Trivia.
Xara's Random Fandom.
Tolkienish, provided by Perian.
Next issue: Fandom.
Find past archives or contribute at http://inili.iwarp.com/
Attention readers! We are pleased and proud to announce
that the i Nili Newsletter staff has nearly doubled as of this issue.
Please extend a warm welcome to Lady Morrigan Shadow, Padfoot, and
May they survi- I mean, provide you with many articles and
columns to come.
In other news, a hearty thanks to the people of Figwit
Lives for the links to both Samwise and the Killer Milkshake and i
They say inspiration is a wonderful thing. Some have likened
it to the flashing of a lightbulb in the brain. Some have declared it a
natural phenomenon. Some have even said they see a flash of light when
they get one! Inspiration is certainly a strange and unpredictable
thing. It comes when it pleases, and no matter how hard you try, you
cannot force it if it doesn't want to be! Inspiration seems to be
completely beyond our control! But this writer has noticed one rather
bothersome aspect of inspiration; it tends to come at the most
inconvenient moments imaginable!
I don't know about you, but I can't count how many times I've
had an inspiration at an incredibly inopportune moment. Firstly,
there’s the classic inconvenient inspiration. You've had nothing to do
all day and have been basically killing time. When you finally hit the
sack in the evening, you're drifting off when suddenly...INSPIRATION!!
One problem; it's two o'clock in the morning!! And tomorrow you will be
busy all day doing something. So whilst you could have spent today
feeding your inspiration, you will now be spending tomorrow in a
flustered panic trying to write and do whatever it is you were planning
at the same time!
That same scenario also, in my case anyway, applies to ideas for
long and time consuming fan fictions happening on the very last day
before school goes back. Talk about bad timing!! Since officially
declaring I wanted to become a writer and picking up a pen/keyboard two
years ago, I have been victim to a long string of incredibly
inconvenient inspirations; in the middle of an exam room, halfway
through a relaxing motor tour of New Zealand with only hotel paper and
a pen fast running out, frequent ideas in the middle of the night, the
day before a huge school assignment is due and of course, my favourite,
the last day of the school holidays.
And it seems I am not the only writer who ever suffered from
this inconvenient inspiration. After all, didn't the revered JRR
Tolkien get his idea for The Hobbit in the middle of marking School
Certificate exam papers? This would hardly help one concentrate on
marking. A great Australian author, John Marsden claims to have gotten
his idea for his most acclaimed series to date "Tomorrow When the War
Began" whilst driving along the highway. I hope for his sake he doesn't
get any more ideas in the car, or he might not live long enough to
write them down!
Whether it is a strange force that hovers around and decides to
hit people, or something inside our brains just waiting to burst out,
inspiration is not only beyond our control, but also possessed of
incredibly bad timing. They say it is a wonderful gift, but when you're
trying to concentrate on writing an exam essay analysing and comparing
three entirely separate books in forty minutes, I say it is a bloody
Frida Belmonte - The True Story
Many of our readers should by now be familliar with a
trilogy of fanfictions about the workers of a hotel in New Zealand: Happy
Hobbit Hotel; Hobbits, Hats, and Silver Spoons; and Amidst Dragon Fire.
One of these fictional characters recently took on a life of her
own, and began to e-mail yours truly. I bring to you now the true
story, as told (somewhat disjointedly, by no fault of hers) by
P: As a worker at the Happy Hobbit Hotel, may I interview you?
F:*Squirms with pleasure* Oh, well, I've never been interviewed before!
I suppose I could fit you into my schedule, *consults empty diary*
... Yes, I think you can!
P: Hehehehe. Well, I look forward to it. Give me time to formulate
my questions, and I will get back to you. Good luck in your new
marriage and story!
F: Thankyou! I look forward to it, too!
-Here an event transpired involving a multitude of stuck out
tongues and a retaliation for suggesting she was already bored in her
F: I'm sorry, I've scared you, haven't I? Many people seem to be
frightened by me, guests usually. Ah well, they need to learn to
overcome their fears sooner or later...
P: Yes. What do you suppose causes this unnatural fear?
F: Well, I think...hey! Have we started the interview yet?
P: It seems so. Inadvertently.
F: Oh you sneaky journalist!!! Had me off my guard and everything!
Right! *Straightens skirt.* In answer to your question, it took me many
a year to
realise that people don't react to everyone like that, but Estella says
it's because I'm a terribly shocking and overwhelmingly excited person.
But I don't think I am a shocking person, it is everyone else who
shocks me! I mean, they act like it's their ambition in life to have
absolutely no fun whatsoever! The energy it must take to supress
yourself to that extent must be enormous. Now that I think about it,
it's really quite an amazing feat. I should tell Rudolf!
P: Let me know how that goes. So, if you could change people,
convince them to live life for fun, how would you go about it?
F: I would wave my magic wand and all would be well! But, as I
don't have one, I'd become head of the department of education, get
them while they're young, that's what I say!
P: A superb idea. Is that your next career plan after the Reindeer
F: Certainly not! I thought we were talking hypthetically...
P: Ah. Did I remember to ask you whether i Nili came to your
resteraunt while they were in NZ?
F: Of course! Juni has become a compulsive Reindeer Cafe
recommender. Everyone who goes through that building hears about the
lemon pepper calamari ... mmm ... Rudolf really surprised us with the
menu, it's all very ... classy...
P: Indeed? So, your opinions on them?
F: On what? The menu? Delicious! All the meals, delicious! He's a
genius. When I hav a spare moment I like to just sit and
read the menu, ah the descriptions of all that nice food...
P: I actually meant on i Nili, but do go on.
F: Oh! On i Nili! Right well, I thought they were very
interesting, it's not often that you meet people who are proud of their
strangeness! Most people tend to not advertise the fact, or deny
it and insist that they are normal. Rudolf seems to think he's a
normal person. *Snorts in disbelief.*
P: I see. And you clearly disagree with him.
F: He married me didn't he? I can tell you, 'tis not
normal for me to be getting offers like that.
P: True, true... I understand that all too well. Speaking of your
youth, was that childhood biography of you authorised?
F: Yes, in fact it was largely based on this interview, so for
once it was accurate...
P: Did the ... well, the leaving event make local papers?
F: You mean when I left home? Certainly not, why would the
F: I don't know how much luck I'm going to be having, that damn
girl has been doing an awful lot of research I'm not entirely
comfortable...no! Don't tell me what I can and can't say to the nice
journalist! Oh fine, have it your way...*stomps off*
P: Research? Into what, if I may ask?
F: Oh many things, I cannot say what but I think you can guess.
She sent you one of the research questions last night. Actually you
should hurry up and answer it, the story has come to a complete
standstill waiting for that information, a standstill in Episode 6 and
I get more nervous the more I have to wait!
P: I answered it... Good luck, Frida. I'm getting rather nervous
for you as well...
F: Oh god, I think it's about to happen...
P: *Whips out her notepad.* What's about to happen? Tell me about
it... Do you have a time? Know who's going to do it?
F: Cannot say! I cannot say! Ask me later...
P: I will... *Hurriedly follows after the rollerskating Frida.*
F: *Points* You'll see what it is now...at least it leaves me
free to answer questions... [Please read Amidst Dragon Fire
P: EEEK! Okey, question one: Are you still alive?
F: Yes, I am alive, but not in a healthy state...wow, there's a
lot of ducks here...
P: Er, ducks?
F: Aha, when I was in my coma, I was in a boat on a lake, and
there were all these ducks and I was feeding them! It was very
-A brief pause in correspondence occurred due to technical
difficulties, broken by Frida.-
F: Perhaps you should try sending them to Xara?
P: I'll do that, though I cannot now remember what I said in the
past few [messages].
F: Hehehe! That's ok, make it up! I'll never know.
P: All right, I will... When I'm not on journalism overload.
F: Ah I understand, the newsletter must be as nightmarish as
me in a kitchen...hmmm, nightmares...dreams...Rudolf and
P: Would you care to elaborate on the thoughts you are dropping
F: Well, no, I wouldn't actually.
P: Suit yourself, then.
F: Don't you reverse psychology me, missy!
P: All right, back to general questions, then. When (if) you
awoke, what was your first reaction to the news that the hotel had been
F: My first reaction? Well, it was quite mixed. at first I
thought that perhaps I was still in a dream, you know? Because
stuff like that's just not meant to happen in real life, I tell
you! Then I thought maybe Rudolf was playing a joke on me,
unlikely but I think I've rubbed off on him a bit...then I
realised that not even I would be that cruel so I realised he
was being serious, and decided I would go back into a coma for a
while but he kept shaking me and worrying that I was dying
so I had to wake up again...I still can't quite take it in, you
know? Don't know what we're going to do now, but Juni will come up with
something, I'm sure.
P: With all your past experience, have you and Rudey considered
starting up a resteraunt of your own?
F: I cannot answer that question at this point in time.
P: I understand. I was among the recipients of a very vociferous
letter stating how shodily you had been treated in the literary
recounting of your life. Are there any other records you would like to
F: Yes, as a matter of fact, there are! I do not have a pet rat! I
had a friend who was a rat at one time, but it was entirely Juni's
assumption that he was my pet! Of course, I did everything in my power
to stop her from brutally murdering him, but I would never cage poor
Brutus and subject him to the indignity of belonging to another
life-form, especially a human being!
P: That was very noble and humane of you. Have you any other
non-human friends whose homes were lost in the passing of the Hotel?
F: Oh dear, do you want me to name them all? Frederick the
cocroach, he lived in a hole beneath the sink, poor fellow. And then
there was Imelda, the snail. I'm afraid we didn't get on very well in
the beginning, I used several of her cousins to garnish my pizza, but
that was before I learnt how nice and companionable snails can be! And
of course there was Rudolf, but then, now that I think, no he's human
isn't he? I get confused sometimes you see, he can be quite an animal
in the bedr-...woops! Did I say that out loud? *blushes* But of course,
I was not sorry about any of the spiders that might have been
extinguished in the blaze, those bastards!!! Kill them all, I say! And
P: *Chokes back laughter.* Yes, I'm afraid you did say that aloud.
If I may ask, Frida; you work in a Hotel full of Fans in the most
extreme sense. What is it that attracted you to that atmosphere?
F: Are you suggesting that I'm not as extreme a fan of Lord of the
Rings as the others are!?! I have been insulted!!! How could you even
suggest that!?! How could you even think to ask me such a question!?!
P: No, I'm simply inquiring as to, well, what it is that made you
a fan in the first place. How did that come about for you?
F: Well you see, in my youth I wasn't a big reader, all that
sitting still, you know? But then, I wasn't a big school-goer either.
Me and my sister Freya, that evil bitch, would set out walking to
school, and our mother would watch us until we got to the corner, then
as soon as we were out of sight I stopped pretending to like her and we
went our separate ways. I don't know about her, but my ways never
seemed to take me to school. But my mum suspected this. So she prowling
the streets when the school called to tell her I wasn't there! What was
I to do? I don't know what would have happened if she caught me! So, if
I heard her coming, she had these loud shoes you see, they weren't loud
when she bought them of course mind you, I made sure they were loud,
anyway, when I heard her coming, I'd slip out of sight into the nearest
building. Well, one day I was taking refuge in the library when she saw
me! She followed me into the library! I had to be quick, there was
nowhere to hide, so I relied on the fact that she simply wouldn't be
able to believe it was me if she saw me reading, grabbed the closest
book and pretended to be reading it. She came in, saw me, did a double
take, shook her head and left! The plan had worked! But in order to
better simulate the impression of reading, I read an experimental few
paragraphs of the book. It was the Lord of the Rings, and I was of
course immediately enthralled! So you see, I owe my life to Lord of the
Rings, and look where that book has taken me!
F: Ooo, you liked my story? Hehehe, interesting time, childhood;
playing tricks on people, escaping from people, having tricks pinned on
me by evil Freya. That's why I first started dying my hair, you
know? Well, one of the reasons anyway. Then she couldn't pin all
the nasty stuff she did on me anymore! But she really resented it, this
one time she put glue in my shampoo... *shudders*
P: Ouch! What did you do?
F: Had to cut it off, and it took me a whole year to get it back
the way it was! But I had my revenge: it involved her diary, a
photocopier, and the school quadrangle.
P: You posted her diary pages in the quadrangle?
F: No, I handed them out! But don't get the wrong idea ok. I know
I can't talk, being a bit of a practical joker myself, but some of the
stuff she did was really NASTY! *Shakes head sadly.*
P: *Nods.* I understand.
F: *Sighs* 'Tis because of her I ended up at the hotel, you
know. Soon as we turned 18, I was out of there like a shot!
Hehehe, we grew up in Auckland you know. Anyway, the night of our
birthday I packed up all my clothes and hitch-hiked around
until it ended I ran out of money and I was in this
small town in the middle of nowhere when I saw a sign in a window
looking for job apllicants; preferably with love of Lord of the
Rings. Eventually I thought I should write to mum and dad to
tell them where I was, and thankfully by then Freya had left, too.
Took her a while to find out where I was. Don't know why she
P: So, what town in the middle of nowhere does the Hotel reside in?
F: 'Tis near Castle Hill Village at Arthur's Pass. Nice and
secluded, and we get a lot of business from tourists travelling
up to the national park, don't you know.
P: Ah, I see. Are most LotR Fans?
F: We've certainly seen a lot more of them since the movies came
out, but all sorts come to the Reindeer Cafe, I mean, why
should the LotR fans see anything special about it? Unless, of
course, they've been to Juni's first. Hehehe. -Another
pause.- Ye have not written in a whole day! Xara says this is a
bad sign; have you been attacked by giant spider bees?
P: Newp! I have been bombarded by massive quantities of pencil
F: That sounds dangerous!!! You must some sort of stationary
P: Aye, dangerous indeed. Especially when they get in your lungs
in those massive quantities. I am stationary, primarily, but I'm not
sure about the detective part. Turning the focus back to you, how do
you like your new career?
F: You mean in the Reindeer Cafe? I find it very exciting and
fulfilling, me and Rudolf finally working together in our own place,
not that working in the hotel wasn't the best time of my life, but the
change is very refreshing, it's good to move on. of course, my
clothes are suffering. Already I have a large tear in my best top,
and three of my skirts are burnt, but it's all just part of the job,
you know? And Juni and Estella visit us all the time so it's just
great. I wanted the waiters to wear red noses and antlers,
but so far Rudey doesn't agree, even though several of them have
volunteered! I'm sure he'll come 'round though...
P: Don't you think the antlers could be, well, a bit dangerous to
F: They would be soft ones, you know, like soft toy soft, and not
P: Ah! I see. Good, you have overcome my worries.
F: You don't think I would be that silly as to have large pointy
objects on waiters' heads? The amount of times they've slipped over...
P: Hmm? Go on?
F: Oh, well you see when we first bought the place, the decor was
pretty appaling, so we basically re-did everything. But there's
something about this new carpet, it's all very nice and soft and red
and looks very good in the evenings with the soft lighting and the
table cloths but, it's very slippery. Every time we start to get
really busy and the poor waiters have to move fast, we always have
an accident. It's very funny to watch, but not funny to clean up.
P: Hehehehehe! Oh dear... Reminds me of when I let the door
close... er, never mind. So, do any of the old HHH employees, other
than you two, work at your restaraunt?
F: Nope, as I think was mentioned in the *dark looks* ADF story,
they all went on to do their own thing. But we had no problem
finding more people. Don't worry, I give them a thorough screening
before they're allowed to work at the restaurant; don't
want any psychopaths. Rudolf doesn't like me being quite so
interrogative, but I think anyone who gets scared off isn't
right for the restaurant (it's called a cafe but it's really a
restaurant. Cafe just sounded
better with reindeer, and I think it sounds all very classy and
sophisticated, it's got a sort of soft lighting and nice tables with
candles feel to it, doesn't it?) Anyway...
P: Speaking of psychopaths, any update on Seb?
F: There's not much to tell. That psychologist we read about
in the paper did an excellent job. About a year ago Juni
started to get uneasy about him so we
all trouped up to the mental hospital to see if he was still
there. Weren't allowed to see him, he's in a top security
room. Padded walls, strapped to the bed, no visitors. Very
P: Hahahahaha. How did Estella take the visit?
F: Oh you shoulda seen her. I don't think Sebby woulda
survived if they'd let her in, that might have been another reason they
didn't. She started shredding an innocent notepad on the desk at the
front while we were asking about him. I think the man behind the
desk was rather alarmed by it.
P: Do you think she was sincerely in love with him?
F: Maybe she thought she was, but how can you love someone if you
don't really know them?
P: Hmm... *Thinks of Frodo.* I think it's possible. Well, thank
you for your time, Frida! I look forward to speaking to you and your
colleagues in the future. For those readers who would like to contact
Frida Belmonte, her e-mail address is email@example.com
It's All Perian's Fault
By Lady Morrigan Shadow.
Yes, we've all heard the little "joke" on the message boards,
how things are either Perian's fault, or they're Prongs's fault...and
Ivy just makes dirty jokes. However, this...idea, this, this,
thing, as it were, it's all Perian's fault.
Look at all the signs. They are all around...well, they're
all around me, anyway. Longing for green pastures. Falling
in love with tiny men. A fondness for hairy feet. And, yes,
I can even stand to look at Elijah Wood for longer than 3 seconds
without the urge to put his eyes back in his head.
I love Hobbits.
And, it's all Perian's fault.
Ok, so it's not all her fault. I mean, the actors' parents
have something to do with it. But, let me explain....
When I first joined I Nili, oh so many moons ago, I was purely
an elf fan. Galadriel to be exact. I wasn't exactly keen on
the *ahem* thermodynamics of the actors in the movies, because it
wasn't about what they looked like, but how well they told the story.
Then, it started. Between all the innuendoes, inside
jokes, and just plain silliness, I started to notice things. The
twinkle in Billy's eye....the roundness of Dom's cheeks (not those
ones, Ivy. Geez, can you get your head out of the gutter for 2
minutes??)....and, yes, I even noticed that innocent-ish look in
I've become...a Hobbit lover. Or, *sigh* a "Hobbit
I don't know where I went wrong. I still read and respect
Tolkien's work.....but, Peter Jackson hired the CUTEST boys for
Hobbits. I mean, once you get past the "I have an amazing wedgie"
look that you first see on Frodo's face at the beginning of the movie,
they're all absolutely, squeezably adorable. I want to put them
in my pocket, take them home, and make them my pets. I'll make a
little Hobbit Hole for them right here in my living room.
Alas, they are real boys. Elijah will always look better
as a Hobbit, Billy will always be way older than me (even though he
doesn't look it), and Dom will always be the mysterious rock guy of the
Orlando, eat your heart out. You've got NOTHIN' on these
Interview with an Artist
Anyone who has read an illustrated copy of Lord of the Rings,
The Hobbit or the Silmarillion, ever owned a Lord of the Rings calendar
or simply stumbled across some Tolkien art browsing on the net cannot
help but be amazed by the vision which Tolkien artists such as John
Howe, Alan Lee and Ted Nasmith display, capturing Tolkien's epic works
of fantasy. It is truly a gift to be able to portray on paper what you
see, be it in your head or your surroundings, and today I have been
lucky enough to catch up with one of the most promising up-and-coming
Tolkien artists, as well as a bit of an editor in her spare time I
might add. ;)
Xara: When did you first know you wanted to be an
artist? And what were some of your first works, once you were taking it
Leila T. Wood: Truth be known, I'm still not certain I
want to be an artist. Professionally, that is. I always want to work on
bettering my art. I teeter back and forth between visual and literary
arts like a diplomat taking both sides of a dispute.
I think the first time I considered it as a profession was when
I was researching paintings for a project on Greek mythology and came
across the pre-Raphielites' paintings, particularly those of John
William Waterhouse. They so inspired me that I immediately wanted to be
that good. Needless to say, no flash of light filled the room and
suddenly imbued me with artistic ability. (Don't trust the movies!
Sometimes they lie!) It was about a year later that I began working
with oils (I will attach one of my first attempts), which was not the
brightest idea, and I went on from there.
I have always had inclinations toward being an illustrator. When
I recently found my math textbooks, I realised why I near failed that
subject... they are filled more with green-ink sketches of Frodo and
Sam, characters from Brian Jacques' Redwall series, dragons from The
Harperhall of Pern, and so on, than they are with numbers...
Xara: Haha! I wish I could find maths that inspiring!
;) Is there any pattern to how you get your inspirations for artworks
or is it just completely random?
LTW: Generally inspiration, for me, comes when I am
reading. That is why I am so often drawn to depicting Tolkien's world.
The descriptions he gives beg for visual representation.
I am drawn to depicting emotion (no pun intended, I swear it!)
It's quite a challenge, but it is what gives me the most drive to
create a scene.
Xara: Ahh I see...what was the pun? I've always
wondered, with portraiture, how you manage to see a person, and be able
2 represent them so accurately on paper, no matter how close to the
real facial features my drawings are, they never bear any resemblance
to the person. Do you have any tricks?
LTW: Hmm, good question. Well, I think that one thing
to remember when you are a beginning artist is that a face is not made
up solely of the "features". They are actually a very small portion.
The contours of the cheeks, chin, forehead, and so on, are just as
important as the shape of the nose or the length of the eyes.
But once that is in the mind, don't think too hard on getting
that right, either. Even being geometrically perfect will not convey
the essence of the person into a drawing. Personally (and I have heard
the same from many other artists, amateur and professional,) the
painting or sketch most often comes to life when I don't think about
what I am drawing, but let my hands (or the muses, if you prefer) do
the work for me. Music to distract the mind but create the mood wanted
in the picture is a definite help.
Xara: Ah well, I suppose I'm just not an artist. Lol.
Well, all my favourite pictures of yours are always the most colourful
ones. How do you think colour contributes to a painting/drawing?
LTW: Colour brings a life, a third dimension, which
black and white or greyscale media can only hint at. I'm sorry if that
is more brief than my usual answers, but it is how I feel and I can
think of little to say which would add to it.
Xara: Concise, I like it ;) If you become a
professional artist, do you aim to become an illustrator, a portrait-er
(sorry, I don't know the right word) or something else?
LTW: During the early stages of professionalism one
must take any commissions they can, whatever the subject be. I suppose
it depends on which requests happen most frequently...
Xara: That makes sense. Do you think it is important
for an artist to respect themselves, in order to succeed?
LTW: Absolutely. As soon as an artist of any kind
ceases to believe in hi/rself, s/he loses first enthusiasm, then the
will to create at all.
Xara: Are there any other comments you'd like to make
to all the aspiring artists out there?
LTW: Only to keep at it. Even if it does not become a
profession for them, it is a wonderful pastime. Beyond that, the world
is in need of more skilled artisans. Take one look at the creations of
a few hundred years ago (or as imagined in The Lord of the Rings) as
compared to the barren cities of today and you will see what I mean.
Everyone is an artist, even if they haven't realised it yet.
Elf Fantastic - Edited by Martin H. Greenberg
Review by Perian.
While walking through the library, on my way
out, I was brought to a halt by a glimpse of a narrow book spine. I
know that artist! Personally (sort of)! Sure enough, when I pulled it
from the shelf there was one of my favourite John Howe paintings
gracing the cover of "Elf Fantastic".
Don't judge a book by its cover - this is not the most fabulous
novel ever written. Rather it is a collection of elf-featuring short
stories, some excellent (despite naming characters Nimradel and Elodan,
thieves!), some, well, I've seen unpublished web-authors better able to
place fantastical creatures in a modern era. My suggestion is that if
you enjoy fanfiction and haven't any to read at the moment, look for
"Elf Fantastic" (by the cover, oogle.)
This Fortnight: Midnight Flower
"Elrond?" Galadriel looked up as Elrond entered the room.
"Yes my lady?" Elrond looked at his mother-in-law, before
looking around. Arwen wasn't there, and as far as he knew, she really
should be by now. "Where is Arwen?" he asked.
"That is what I was going to ask you," Galadriel said as she
stood, "I have been waiting for her and she has not come. Celeborn went
to look for her, but he cannot find her. Do you know where she is?"
Elrond thought a moment, "And she's not in her quarters?" he
"No," Galadriel replied.
"I have a fair idea of where she might be," Elrond said, running
a list of possible places his daughter would have gone through his
head, and there was only one he thought was even remotely possible. The
garden. He turned and left, hurrying off to see if she was indeed
there. Galadriel watched him go and then slowly sat back down.
"Why would she do this?" Celeborn spoke up from where he'd been
standing silently near the window.
Galadriel sighed, "I fear that none of us really thought to
explain the wedding ceremonies of men to her," she looked up at him, "I
hope, for her sake, that Aragorn is at least somewhat accustomed to
this," she admitted quietly. Celeborn nodded. He hoped so too.
"Novrion?" Legolas poked his head around the corner where
Eiliandel and Novrion were sitting out of the way of all the mad
rushing around that was going on in the palace.
"Yes, Legolas?" Novrion asked, not even looking up from the book
he'd been reading.
"Do you suppose you would mind coming here and giving us a bit
of help?" Legolas asked.
"Of course." Novrion got up and went with him, curious as to
what he was needed for. Eiliandel smiled, shook her head and went back
to the small piece of parchment she was very carefully working on.
"Arwen?" Elrond called his daughter's name as he walked up
behind her. She, true to his guess, was standing in the gardens,
leaning on one of the walls, seemingly lost in her thoughts. She
turned, her sapphire eyes a perfect mirror of Celebrian's, making
Elrond remember all to well that soon, he'd be reunited with his
beloved wife, but would have lost his beloved daughter.
"Ada?" Arwen looked a little startled.
"Arwen, what are you doing out here?" he asked, standing next to
his daughter, "You are going to be married in less than two hours." he
looked at her, "Is everything alright?"
"Yes," Arwen looked away, "Everything is fine."
"Then why are you out here?" Elrond was puzzled by his
daughter's behaviour. He'd seen how much Arwen loved Aragorn and how
much Aragorn loved Arwen - it was not hard. Neither looked happy unless
they were together.
"Ada, I... I'm scared." Arwen looked at him, biting her lower
Elrond put a comforting arm around her shoulders, "Scared of
what?" he asked.
"I'm scared that..." she looked upset, and her voice dropped to
a whisper, "I won't be the wife he is expecting."
Elrond stared at his daughter, "Whyever would you think that?"
he asked, pulling her to face him.
"Because, I ... I don't know what to do!" she looked like she
was about to cry, "I do not know what to do as queen, I do not know
what to do as his wife... Look at all that are here!" she was cut off
as her father raised his hand.
"Arwen, let me tell you something. If your mother was here, she
would tell you this. Perhaps I have made a mistake in not telling you
earlier, or asking your grandmother to speak to you about this," he
said quietly. His daughter looked at him, concern still written on her
face. "When your mother and I married, she was so nervous beforehand
that your grandmother had to literally sit her down and talk with her
about it." he said.
"Really?" Arwen looked slightly relieved that.
"Yes," Elrond gathered her in a hug, "And would you like to know
something else?" he looked at her and she nodded slowly, "That was the
first time in my life that I'd ever been that nervous," he admitted.
Arwen looked at him. She'd never thought her father was the type to get
nervous, much less admit it. "In fact, I was probably worse than your
mother," he said, smiling at her as she smiled a little a that. "You'll
do fine, Arwen," he let his voice get more serious. "Do not think of
who all is watching - your grandparents and I, as well as your brothers
will be right behind you," he reassured.
Arwen looked up at him, "You promise that?" she asked softly.
She had been worried that there was some other strange custom of men
that would take them away from her.
"I promise that. I will be right next to you until you are
standing with Aragorn," Elrond said, looking at her trusting face,
"And, truthfully, Arwen, do not worry. Aragorn is probably as nervous
as you are," he said, well aware that the man was probably far more
nervous that he would ever admit. That earned him a small smile from
her. "Now, why don't you come with me, and we'll find your
grandmother?" he suggested, taking a hold of her arm.
To spice things up a bit (And you make you really, really
Q: Filtration apparatuses? Micro-pipettes? Unsuppressed glee?! Name
the article and the author (Mwahahaha.)
Q: You see a man who looks startlingly like Professor Tolkien. You run
home, don a curly wig and a cloak, and then, according to Perian, do
Last week's answers: Three. Issue two; Chips and dip.
Xara apologises for the lack of column this fortnight but
is at the moment unfortunately suffering from the notion that she has
been eaten by a fish, and so was unable to prepare Random Fandom in
time for this issue. We apologise for any inconvenience and ask you to
send any fish-gutting implements you think may be useful in retrieving
our column writer. Thankyou.
Don't listen to anything Rudolf says! He is wonderful
but he is also a little uptight about sheep. Those police had
absolutely no right to arrest me, and I have begun a campaign
against wrongful imprisonment! Trespassing on private property my
foot! I saw no signs declaring that field was private
land! And after all that trouble I went to climb over the
electric fence!! Well, at least Persy thought it was funny. Thanks
for your advice anyway, it was good, despite the hicups...
Hicups? Begging your pardon, but I didn't give you any hicups.
REPLY TO PERSONAL AD [Iss. 40]: I'm impressed. You put two
words together without error. However, on behalf of all women, blondes,
tall folk, and Newsletter readers everywhere (even though I am only
three out of four) I am personally affronted by your interest.
[Reply from Editor: I believe the G.W. stood for Grima Wormtongue.]
WORSHIPPERS OF ERU: Follow me on the path to true
enlightenment! All you have to do is send your life savings to firstname.lastname@example.org
. Trust me on
WANTED: Large wooden box and a stick to prop it up on, preferably large
enough to contain a person of about three feet in height. Should have a
small hole to allow passage of air. Carrots and string on stick
included would be much appreciated.
Descriptive Elements, Part VI. (Key: q.= Quenya, s. =
Sindarin, where known.)
hoth: (noun) host, horde. Tol-in-Guarhoth,
iaur: (adjective) old. Iant Iaur, Iarwain.
kal- (q.), gal- (s.): (verb)
shine. Calacirya, Calaquendi, Tar-Calion, Galvorn, Gil-galad, Galadriel.
kel- : (q., verb) go away, flow away. Celon.
If you can call yourself an editor! I read the article entitled
"Thank You Professor Tolkein and Director Jackson" and was appalled at
the number of spelling mistakes that I found ... "miagine" ... !!??
"amde"!!?? Who is the lousy speller of this artic--- er, oops ... that
would be ... er ... nevermind ...
On a brighter note, I'm sure that Pete would blush bright read
when he reads "An Open Letter to Peter Jackson" -- all that praise is
definaly deserving, but he would probably be modest about it, as
always. Keep up the good work!
Och, that article had been written so long before, I thought I
already had edited it when I added it to the issue. Apologies to
yourself and all our readers. I will gladly (not gladly, but you follow
me) share the embarrassment.
Thank you for your commentary on the article. I have one
question yet flitting about in my mind. Would you please define
Dear Eowyn Evenstar,
Mercy me, how ever will I respond to so consise
and poignant a message? What reply could ever be worthy of it? I'm
positively flummoxed. I'm not used to summing up opinions in two words.
It's not part of the job description! SOMEONE SAVE- Wait. Aha, I have
I have to admit I had been a little worried that the
newsletter this fortnight might be a little repetitious, being
devoted souly to one New Zealand director, but 'twas pulled
off marvellously, and I would like to commend my fellow staff for
another great read! *Grin.* And did I pick up a couple of Douglas
Adams influenced sentences in your article? Well done! Glad it's
Influenced? *Shifty eyes.* Er... Not that I knew of. Anyhoo,
thank you greatly for your commentary. It's always highly appreciated,
as with everyone *nudge, nudge, TIG!*
Perian... runs away.
Prongsie's holding her edge in the contest, but it's
narrowing... New in it this week are Lady Morrigan
Shadow and the Belmontes (right, they're not really in it, but...)