3. Dawn, Outside the Tent of Aragorn
Still weary from his restless night,
Lord Aragorn awoke at dawn.
Outside his tent the welcome sight
of Gandalf striding ‘cross the lawn
toward his tent his grateful eye did meet.
The rest behind him trailed, looking at their feet.
“Ah, ha!” thought Aragorn, relieved.
“The noble wizard must have read
the riot act to them. Reprieved
am I from jealousy. Instead,
they’ve come to beg my pardon now, unaminous.
Well, I’ll forgive them, be noble and magnaminous.”
The wizard Mithrandir approached
and, leaning heavy on his staff,
with sorrowed frown the subject broached.
“The others craved, on their behalf,
I speak with you about that slight depression
on your chin (the subject of last night’s bull-session).”
“In much ado, they came to me;
about the dimple they complained.
And I must say that I agree,
once all the angles they explained."
“But Gandalf!” Aragorn exclaimed, “I counted
on your getting them for battle up and mounted!”
“Besides,” said Estel, “why the heck
should you care who the girls adore?
And why, through all this [expletive deleted] trek
did you ne’er mention it before?
In case you hadn’t noticed, there’s a war
on here. We don’t have time for nonsense anymore.”
“Nonsense!” huffed the White. “Restraint
I show by holding back!” And from
behind came chorus of complaint,
confuséd shouts that had become
a swell of words in which the likes of “fan-girl,”
“dimple,” “sweaty,” “tall,” and “manly” oft were hurled.
Gandalf’s voice again arose,
strong above the others’ babble.
“I’m not concerned with fan-girls, those
are naught. But I admit this rabble…
um.. Fellowship… got me thinking on a point
or two that have my nose severely out of joint."
“About that Balrog…” he began.
Lord Aragorn let out a groan.
“Now Mithrandir, your own command
was ‘Fly, you fools! I’d not have flown
and left you there of my own will. You must
believe that Boromir and I deserved your trust.”
“I never thought you’d really leave,”
said Mithrandir, a sigh he gave.
“Well, be that as it may, I grieve
to mention an offense more grave.
I saved your bacon at Helm’s Deep, but who
got all the good close-ups? Why, dimple-laden you!”
At that the chorus did renew
their plaints. Disgusted, Aragorn
discerned within the shouts a few
that really hurt and darked the morn.
“Dwarf-tossing.” That was one he heard, then winced
at “second breakfast.” Sure, no words they minced.
From out the chorus, Gimli’s voice
did sound, “If Leggy doesn’t go,
then I’m not either. It’s a choice
you know I hate to make, Stormcrow….”
“You trusted not the elf!” said Estel, pleading.
“Boy,” said Pip, “you’ve got to catch up on your reading.”
“Besides,” said Gandalf, “’round midnight,
the noble Jewel of Gondor fair
appeared to me in dream. And right
he was about the Ring, I dare
say now. I wronged the noble Boromir
in life. So tall… so fair…” In wizard’s eye, a tear.
“Alas, the noble Blade is slain.
So, anyhow, we took a vote
to go with Sauron. He’s a pain,
we know, but we did note
he has no dimple on his chin (no chin, in fact).
Safe to say the Lidless Eye few fan-girls doth attract.”
Part IX – The Deus Ex Machina
Estel threw Narsil down, the blade,
the sword reforged, upon the grass.
“That’s it! I quit! Your point is made.
You sorry lot can kiss my….”
Just then approached a litter; in it, carried
by four men, Faramir (who looked a little harried).
“I thank the Valar, I’m in time!”
quoth he. “What now?!” yelled Aragorn.
“Just before the clock did chime
at four, I heard my brother’s horn,”
so said the grave and noble Raven. “He came
to me in vision fair, in tall, though punctured, frame.”
Then Estel swore both loud and long.
“You all conspire against me, ghost
and all, e’en Boromir the strong.
The armies of the West are toast.”
“Nay, my lord,” said Faramir the just.
“Listen to the dream, e’er thou do combust.”
“The One had come to Boromir
and told him that he’d got it wrong.
Borry’s sorrow was sincere.
He told me then to come along
and straighten out the mess he’d made (again)
and say he’s sorry that he such a putz has been.”
“The One!” Lord Aragorn exclaimed.
“Then Boromir hath Eru seen!”
“Not quite,” the Raven did explain.
“’Twas PJ. He made quite a scene
and said that Borry had to make it clear
to all of you to get your asses into gear.”
“He said the deal with One-Eye’s not
an option. Aragorn’s the King,
and PJ doesn’t have a lot
of patience. Forget the dimple thing.”
So spoke the Raven, pale and wan of face
(the fact he’d had to leave his bed was a disgrace).
E’er fainting then, his errand done,
(almost) he said, “If we don’t win,
no fan-girls, alas, for anyone...”
Thus he collapsed, the noble Borry’s kin.
O’er all a pregnant silence it did fall.
Then cried they, “All for one and one for all!”
Thus Fellowship restoréd was,
and all in greatest love proceeded
to fight for great and noble cause.
The words of Boromir they heeded,
though he was dead. They would ignore the dimple,
not wanting to be cut out of the DVD. ‘Twas simple.
Author’s note: Thanks to Avon for the inspiration of the Vogon Poetry thread on the Verse and Adversity forum, starting with her own inimitable poem on elven dimples. This, alas, is its spawn. Thanks also to Nic for (inadvertantly, so no blame attaches there) giving me the idea and to Starlight, Tay, Nessime, Nic and Acacea for advice, comments and encouragement. I have used (more like mis-used) Tay's wonderful images the Raven and the Blade, with her kind acquiescence. Of course the idea of jealousy in and around the Fellowship is not new. Two of my favorite examples are Cassandra Claire's "Very Secret Diaries” and Harry Knowles’ “Sauron Speaks!” on Ain’tItCoolnews.
Apologies to the shade of Thomas Gray, since I have lifted the general metric scheme as well as the first two lines of “Legolas’ Complaint” from his Pindaric ode The Bard and to Dr. Martin, my college English professor, wherever he may be.
This is a work of fan fiction, written because the author has an abiding love for the works of J R R Tolkien. The characters, settings, places, and languages used in this work are the property of the Tolkien Estate, Tolkien Enterprises, and possibly New Line Cinema, except for certain original characters who belong to the author of the said work. The author will not receive any money or other remuneration for presenting the work on this archive site. The work is the intellectual property of the author, is available solely for the enjoyment of Henneth Annûn Story Archive readers, and may not be copied or redistributed by any means without the explicit written consent of the author.