3. Hoo boy
The voice echoed back and forth in Lina's mind, and it took her a while to realise it was her own. Her body seemed to hurt all over.
“Ow, shit..” she groaned and promptly rolled of the bed. The floor greeted her with a hard thump.
“Goddamnit!” she hissed and opened her eyes. Where the heck was she? And why did every bone in her body hurt? Wait…
“You too, huh?” came a voice, and a face came into view. It was girl about her age, spotting a giant black eye.
“I'm Dot – we're room mates. You passed out last night, after Sauron…”
“Ow,” Lina broke in, remembering. Many of them had been storming towards Legolas, when suddenly Sauron had stood up and… She grimaced. Well, he was Dark Lord for a reason.
“What happened to you?”
“Some chick named Kelly elbowed me in the eye to get to Legolas first. She lives on the second floor, we're on the first.”
Sighing, Lina got up and looked around. It seemed to be a fairly standard college room, even with a desk that were stacked with books. Heavy, large, large books.
“They expect us to read all that?!”
“Oh no,” Dot muttered, looking down. “That's actually just for Elrond's subject – 'Elven Customs and Language'. He also does Numerology 101, but that's not till next semester.”
Lina took in the pile of books and felt terror unlike anything she had ever experienced before.
“But.. but…” Lina stammered and sat down. She felt dizzy – she had never even read all of the Lord of the Rings books! She had only cared for the parts with Legolas in.
“You know what's really weird?” Dot leaned forward conspiratorially. “You know how the enrolment papers asked for race?”
“A few of the writers put down Elvish and so on, you know, as a joke? And now they are Elves! And we have a hobbit on our floor.”
Lina merely shook her head, and leaned her head on her arms. A moment later she nearly yelped out in pain as the large bump on her forehead came to rest on her arms.
“That's nothing. A few of the girls spotted Frodo, and Morgoth gave them a lesson. He teaches 'Putting the Dark in Dark Lord 303'. He and Sauron always try to outdo each other.” Dot shivered. “We have Sauron this semester.”
Looking at the books, Lina spotted her timetable. She seemed to have five subjects: 'Elven Customs and Language 101', 'Evil is as Evil Does 101', 'Platonic Love 101', 'Striding 101' and 'What's In a Name? 101'.
“The classes don't start till next week.”
“Thank God,” Lina muttered, and tried to ignore her splitting headache. A moment later there was a thunderous knock on the door and she nearly jumped out of her skin.
“Hello, hello, hello!” came a bright and all too cheerful voice. “Assembly in five minutes in the main hall! Be late and you'll be forced to take an extra subject this year.”
“We better not be late,” Dot sighed and got up. Lina trotted after, wondering if this LotR fanfic idea really was that bright.
The hall was quickly filled up with people, and Lina though she spotted the halfling girl, as well as en elf. The crowd moved rather quickly, and she wasn't totally sure. She got a quick look of the stairs that seemed to go on forever
“Lucky I'm on the first floor,” she muttered as the crowd slipped into the main hall.
There was still a huge black spot in the ceiling, one that Sauron seemed to be admiring. Leaning against the wall behind the podium, he seemed almost to be posing. Next to him a nervous looking Frodo stood, with Sam looking protective. Lina could only stare. They were all there, the characters she knew and lusted after. Legolas was eyeing the crowd, but otherwise seemingly calm.
Gandalf stepped up, still looking cheerful, but somewhat more strained this time.
“Come in, come in. Now, it ended rather abruptly yesterday, but perhaps everyone now is quite clear on what we not shall not do?”
“We shall not stampede Legolas,” answered hundreds of monotone voices.
A hopeful hand was raised.
“Yes.. Miss Rain is it?”
“That's the hobbit girl on our floor,” Dot whispered.
“Can we stampede Sam?” the hobbit girl asked, cheeks blazing. Sam looked up, rather startled.
Gandalf merely sent her a stare, then continued on.
“This is your orientation week. You will be free to move about the University and explore it. However, the staff section is strictly off-limits to anyone but the staff.”
A disappointed “oh” waved through the hall.
“You will be allowed to visit Minas Tirith on the weekends, but should there be any trouble reported back to me, this permission will be withdrawn. Tonight there will be a party in this hall – after the renovation is complete.” Gandalf shot a glance at Sauron, who merely stared blankly back.
“The staff will attend. We have the Rivendell Harpists & Choir as entertainment, and Mr. Tom Bombadil has promised a poetry reading. I think it will be a most exquisite evening. Now, the course co-ordinator is Miss Cam, and any complaints you have about lecturers or the University itself should be taken to her. Head of staff is King Elessar, who will be teaching Striding 101.”
“Puny mortal,” Morgoth muttered, getting a sharp glance from Gandalf.
“The other staff will be introduced to you as the classes begin. I understand that each of the floor will now have a gathering, so I will leave you to it. Dismissed. And.. ” he added with a smile. “Welcome to OFUM!”
“Hoo boy,” said Lina and closed her eyes, cursing her headache. More than anything she just wanted a nice bed and a large bottle of aspirin and..
Wait… Did they have aspirins in Middle-earth?!
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.