Omey stepped into the tunnel, it was higher than she had exspected, but not so high she didn’t have to duck in order to step in the little round door.
She looked around the inside of the hall and found it like a perfectly round tube, save for the floor, wich was perfecly level. It was clean and well aired, like Tolkien had said it was, in fact Omey couldn’t help wishing she could stay here longer.
She was suddenly aware that Bilbo was addressing her, “And what would you like, my good elf?” This seemed to be the usaual way of addressing elves in Middle Earth, Omey was getting a little tired of it.
“Just tea, thankyou, and maybe biscuit or two.” Omey said, not feeling incredibly hungry.
The hobbit looked at her in surprise,”Only tea and a biscuit? What do elves live on anyways?”
Gandalf answered for her, “Song and music, mostly, they don’t eat much and starlight is like energy to them.”
Maybe thats why I haven’t been eating much lately, normally Dad complains that I’m going to bankrupt him from eating too much.
Anyways the party proceeded preety much as described in the book, the dwarves ate and ate and talked and talked. After they helped Bilbo set everthing out fresh.
Poor little Bilbo sat on a stool by the hearth,(is that how you spell it?) nibbling a biscuit, and trying to look as if thirteen dwarves, a wizard and an elf came to tea every Wensday, and not doing very well at it either. He looked blown away by everything, and not wihout reason.
At last Thorin pushed back his chair and said,”All right, clear up, we need to have a little music before getting down to buisness.”
And so twelve dwarves and Bilbo, not Thorin, he was too important, went to clear up.
Omey started to get up to help them, but Gandalf stopped her, ” I would like to speak to you, Omedeaous-“
Gandalf ignored the interuption. “about-“
He never got any farther for at that moment they all heard the dwarves voices lifed up inthe following song…
“Chip the glasses crack the plates,
Blunt he knives and bend the forks,
Thats what Bilbo Baggins hates,
Smash the bottles and burn the corks,
Cut the cloth and tread the fat,
Pour the milk on the pantry floor,
Leave the bones on the bedroom mat
Spash the wine on every door,
Dump the crocks in a boiling bowl,
Pound them up with a thumping pole,
And when you’ve if any are whole,
Send them down the hall to roll,
That’s what Bilbo Baggins hates,
so carefully, carefully with the plates.
At any other time, Omey might have laughed, now she just felt very disgusted at what the dwarves thought was funny.
She didn’t know it but this was a sign that the fact she was an elf was begining to take hold. You see the longer someone from our world stays in another the more it affects them. They are still the same person, but they’re mind and body make subtle changes, so they can survive in the other world. That is also why people who have traveled from world to world seem strange and you can almost always pick them out if you’ve had similar exsperiences yourself.
The reason that Omey was an elf in Middle Earth was our time, the time in Middle Earth is like Narnian time, only when your in Middle Earth you become immortal, are you getting my logic yet? I’m finding this kind of hard to explain. I sincerly hope no one is too confused yet, but rest assured that you will understand by the time I’m done with this story.
Anyways, the elven blood was begining to take hold, but her disgust at hte dwarves was just the begining.
Gandalf and Thorin bagan to smoke. Thorin stuck his feet on the fender, Omey tried not to choke on all of the smoke. Gandalf colleced smoke rings around his head and turned them green.
Soon all twelve dwarves came out, followed by the little hobbit, who promptly sat down on his stool again, as though he needed a rest. The dwarves all brought out they’re interments, Thorin struck his harp and at once the music began.
Omey relized, as well as she could, through the escasty of the music, what Gandalf had ment by elves living chiefly on, song, music and starlight. She felt as thoughshe had been through a seven year famine, and the music was food.
The dwarves wern’t bad at all when it came to music, she thought, and that was her last coherent thought untill they began to sing. and this is like a frament of they’re song, if it can be like it without they’re music.
Far over the misty mountain cold,
To dungeons deep and cavern old,
We must away ere break of day,
To seek our pale enchanted gold,
The dwarves of yore made mighty spells,
While hammers fell like ringing bells,
In places deep where dark things sleep,
In hallow halls beneath the fells,
For ancient king and elvish lord,
There many a gleaming golden hoard,
They shaped and wrought, and light they caught,
To hide in gems on hilt of sword,
On silver necklaces they strung
Flowering stars on crowns they hung,
The dragon fire, in twisted wire,
They meshed the light of moon and sun
Far over the misty mountains cold
To dungeon deep and caverns old
We must away ere break of day,
To seek our long forgotten gold
Goblets they carved there for themselves
And harps of gold where no man dwells
They lay there ong and many a song
Was sung unheard by men or elves
The pines were roaring on the height,
The wind was moaning in the night,
The fire was red, it flaming spread
The trees like torches blazed with light,
The bells were ringing in the dale
And men looked up with faces pale,
The dragon’s ire, more fierce then fire
Laid low they’re towers and houses frail
The mountain smoked beneath the moon
The dwarves they heard the tramp of doom,
They fled thire hall to dying fall,
Beneath his feet, beneath the moon.
Far over the misty mountains cold,
To dungeons deep and caverns dim,
Wre must away, ere break of day,
To win our harps and gold from him.
Suddenly Omey saw the hobbit rise, as if to fetch a light, but she knew better.He was in more than half a mind to go and hide untill they all left. Omey couldn’t say she blamed him.
Thorin spoke,”Where are you going?” He too had apparently guessed the hobbits mind.
“What about a little light?” said the hobbit appologetictly.
“We like dark,”said the dwarves.”Dark for dark buisiness. Ther are many hours before dawn.”
“Of course!” said Bilbo, and sat down quickly. A little too quickly, he missed the stool and sat in the fender, knocking over the poker and shovel with a crash.
At this point I’m sorry to say, Omey ceased to listen. Thorin sounded like those school principal who seem to think thire God-given talent is speech. Omey had better things to think on than Thorin’s seech.
One of them was the note that had come in her jornel. It had been startling that morning, and those initals were driving her crazy if only-
A that moment Omey’s thoughts were interupped by a shriek form the hobbit and a firework glare from Gandalf staff.
The hobbit was kneeling on the hearth shakin like a plateful of mealting Jell-O, calling out,”Struck by lightening, struck by lighening.”
Once again Omey ceased to listen, and she began to think again, that note was driving her crazy, she nearly began to pound her head on the table, but caught herself just in time. It did not go unnoticed, Thorin turned to the young elf in surprise.
“Is somthing wrong, Omeadeaous?” he asked.
“It looked as though you were going to pound your head on the table, Is somthing bothering you?”
Thorin gave the elf a strange look. So did Gandalf, but where as Thorin’s was a,”I’ll never understand these elves” look Gandalf’s was a “You Haven’t Heard The Last of This” look.
It made rather uncomfortable for the rest of the night as the dwarves discussed they’re plans, andBilbo came out and “stuck his foot in it” as he said after wards, Omey fought the ridiculous feeling that she would feel better if if she went out under the stars for a while, as though it would solve her problem.