10. Home for the Holidays: 6
I got to sleep in today, since Elrohir wasn't around to wake me up. And I got to eat an entire package of bacon for breakfast, since Elrohir wasn't around to share. Then I watched morning cartoons (alright, maybe they were noon cartoons) in peace because Elrohir wasn't around to bounce on the sofa and disturb my concentration. Then I played Nintendo for a while because Elrohir wasn't around to play for me. I got to level seven on Tetris. Then I checked my email. Then suddenly it was dark out.
All in all, I don't think I did anything.
I tried to actually do something today. I tidied up the bedroom. Elrohir leaves his clothes lying everywhere, so there was no lack of work. We have a specially designated clothes storage unit, but for some reason Elrohir is completely incapable of using it. He just tosses his shirts on the floor or on the chairs. I think I should get him some hooks so that he can hang things randomly on the walls to keep them out of the way. He might actually like that idea too.
While tidying I found a teabag among a handful of pumpkin seeds in the bottom of a box of action figures. It looked sort of old. I put it aside to throw away, but I must've forgot to do that because the next time I saw it Elrohir was using it to make bedtime tea. He didn't complain about the taste, so I didn't feel it was necessary to him where I found it. That would just make him upset. Or, more likely, proud of himself for doing something dangerous. He's still proud of himself for using a ripped sanitary paper loo-seat cover in the Caras Galadhon airport fifty years ago.
Glorfindel is done with the movie. Or maybe he's just sick of having to be there every day. Either way, he stayed home today and watched a Star Trek marathon on channel 8. When it was over he whined about there being nothing better to watch, then rang the satellite company and signed up for the most expensive crap available. Someone who will probably have droopy trousers is calling round tomorrow to install it. Glorfindel just isn't happy unless he can spend a ridiculous amount of money on doing nothing.
We now have about 900 channels. From what I can tell, 100 of them are foreign, 200 of them play the same crappy sitcoms and police shows we can get on regular television, 50 are movies that nobody wants to watch, another 50 are porn, 100 play round the clock amateur sports coverage from Gondor, 100 are weird specialty channels like the all-potato network or the quilter's nook, and the rest showcase a wide variety of nothing special.
Three of the foreign channels are from Valmar. One is news, one is community television, and the other plays shows that I think are supposed to be sitcoms but really make no sense at all. I watched one, and all I could gather of the basic plot was that the wife had invited thirty people from her charity group over for supper and the husband was going mad trying to figure out how to feed them all. But then partway through a bunch of the actors were dressed up as ancient Noldorin soldiers, fighting over a box with a flower in it. I'm still not sure if that was part of the show or just a commercial for soap. But it lasted about ten minutes.
Then back to the main plot, some Noldorin fellow had showed up, and the husband and wife kept saying the word "tulka". This appeared to be the biggest joke in the show, because the studio audience was roaring with laugher. I didn't get it. I asked Glorfindel what was going on, but he just snickered and said, "tulka." Then the show ended with the wife chasing the husband around, hitting him on the head with a broom. The credits rolled over a theme song that had absolutely nothing to do with the show's content.
I didn't stick around to watch all of the variety show, which was on next and featured a host in a bad suit, a girls' football team, and some sort of endurance game where the contestants got a bucket of flour dumped on them if they failed. Honestly, I think the entire Vanyarin culture must be insane. This is even worse than television from Mirkwood.
The movie crew is moving up into the mountains to complete the shoot. They won't be back until Thursday night, when the movie wraps. And Elrohir is going with them. This means that not only am I stuck here alone with Glorfindel and Aralindë for the weekend, but also for most of next week! Without Elrohir around to distract me, who knows what I might accidentally learn about their relationship?
I tried to sit outside in the front yard and read the paper for a while, but some Avarin kids kept yelling at me from across the street and asking if I was old enough to buy beer. So I went around to the back deck and read for a while, but the neighbours were burning something that gave off a peculiar scent. And since the front page story in the paper was about a rise in the population of endangered slugs in Fangorn National Park, there was really no incentive for me to stay out there. So I went back inside and pretended not to notice that Glorfindel and Aralindë were "watching" (I use the term liberally) one of the porn channels.
At this point the only thing left to do was play pinball. I managed to get the high scores list all filled up with my name, except for third place, which is still Elrohir.
I rang grandpa this afternoon to try to waste some time talking about begonias again, but grandma said he had gone to the hospital with stomach pains. She was fairly certain he had eaten a tainted egg. So I was forced to talk to her about the Melevellar gifts. She asked me if I'd used mine yet. I said no, but only because I've not seen much of Erestor lately. I told her Elrohir had eaten his chocolate bum, though.
Then she asked to speak to Elrohir and I had to explain that he had run off with a film crew to make a made-for-telly movie about a person whose name half the actors can't even pronounce correctly. The closest they can say is "Ingui". Glorfindel spent a considerable length of time trying to explain that "Ingwë" is pronounced exactly like one would say "Ingwen", only you stop right before you get to the "N" part, but they didn't understand that. Grandma agreed that the whole scenario sounded scandalous. Then she asked when it would be on, so she could tape it. She has no integrity.
I got out of bed at two today, then played four consecutive hours of pinball. I was unable to knock Elrohir's name out of third place. When Glorfindel yelled up through the hole in the floor that he and Aralindë were going out to Red Lobster, I knew it was finally safe to go downstairs. So I made some chocolate milk and pop tarts and sat and watched television. Nine hundred channels and still nothing good was on. I watched ten minutes of a nature show about lizards before I realised that Elrohir was probably counting on me to feed the iguana in his absence.
I wasn't really sure how to feed an iguana, and all I could remember of Elrohir feeding it is him breaking off little pieces of a banana while the iguana sat on his stomach. So I got the iguana, got a banana, and put it on my stomach. Its claws poked me and it kept trying to walk away. I'm not sure how Elrohir can stand it.
The iguana ate half the banana. I was amazed, since the iguana itself is about the size of a banana. I guess it was hungry. I probably should have fed it yesterday and the day before. But it ate and ate until it was too fat to move on its own. In hindsight, I probably should have let it sit on my stomach for an hour or two before trying to pick it up, because when I lifted it, it started wiggling and whipping its tail around. Then it sicked up. I got banana goo iguana vomit all over my sock.
So then I put the iguana into a laundry hamper so it wouldn't wiggle any more and took it upstairs. I managed to get it into the cage without much more wiggling. It sat on its hot rock looking fat and lazy. I left it there and went downstairs to watch more crappy television, and when I came back up to go to bed the iguana was skinny again and there was a large poo in the corner of the cage. The iguana was scrambling at the glass trying to get out- I think it misses sitting on Elrohir's head. But no way am I taking it out again. It looks like it stepped in the poo. Elrohir can wash it when he gets back.
I hope Glorfindel's been feeding the cat. It seems to like him best, and it's always in his room, so I hold him responsible for its wellbeing.
Erestor rang and asked me to come round to the Legion for a drink with him and dad after work, so I went. I'd never been to the Legion before. And I'll probably never go again. It was full of old people drinking beer and V-8 juice and watching golf on large-screen televisions. I felt significantly out of place. I think I was the only person there who didn't have an RRSP.
Dad asked me what I'd been up to. I didn't have much to say. I told him the iguana sicked up on me, which made Erestor laugh so hard he choked on his Clamato. I bet he wouldn't think it was so funny if an iguana was sick on him!
Then dad ordered a pitcher of beer. The waitress wouldn't let me have any, because I didn't have my ID with me. So I had to sit and watch dad and Erestor get tipsy. When they started arguing about what colour Rohan was on the inflatable globe in the den, I knew it was time to leave. I made up an excuse about having to feed the iguana and then quickly left.
As I was cutting up iguana food, this time a quarter of a banana put into an old sorbet lid to stick in the iguana cage, Aralindë asked me if I was doing anything tomorrow evening. I stupidly told the truth and said, "no". She said, "Oh goody, you can help us babysit!" The story is that her parents and a group of their neighbours are going to a conference at the Ramada on buying homes in Valinor, and nine small children will all be left in Aralindë's care for the day at one of their houses. Honestly, it sounds like a nightmare. I'll have to think of some way to weasel out of it.
I tried my best at weaselling. I told Glorfindel I had a bad stomach ache (from eating a tainted egg), but he didn't believe me. I was forced to make a miraculous recovery and get into the car. We picked up Aralindë from school and drove out to the suburbs where people live in matching beige houses with bay windows and attached garages. The streets make generally no sense and are all a "way", "walk", "bay", "crescent", or "court". It took us a good twenty minutes to find number 53 Erynlas Gate. Then Aralindë and I went inside while Glorfindel hid in the car and waited for all the parents to leave. I think he's still afraid of Aralindë's dad, who threatened to do him some serious grief. Candir may own a waffle shop, but he's built like a trucker.
The house was overrun by tiny Elves. One thirteen-year-old, one ten-year-old, two very small babies, and five that seemed about three or four. They all had peculiar Quenya names like Alquamárë. I asked Aralindë if it was trendy for yuppies to name their children in Quenya nowadays, and she said yes: all her friends have Quenya names, though they go by the Sindarin equivalents most of the time. So Aralindë is really Arlin, and only her parents ever call her Aralindë. And Glorfindel, but she only lets him because she thinks the way he says it is sexy. Which I did not know. I guess next time somebody rings and asks for Arlin, I'll have to remember not to tell them they have the wrong number like I've been doing all this time.
The two oldest kids were easily fobbed off on video games, but the collection of four-year-olds seemed to want to do naught but climb on me. Aralindë (I can't quite convince myself to think of her as Arlin after calling her Aralindë for so long, even though Arlin is much easier to type) of course called watching the babies, who kept falling asleep. Like most females I know, she loves babies. She spent the evening cuddling the more awake of the two, cooing nonsense to it. She passed the other one on to Glorfindel.
I wanted to tell her that this wasn't such a good idea, since Glorfindel has, for as long as I've known him, hated children. He used to call Elrohir and me "turd one and turd two", and dangle our heads into the toilet. Dad even has evidence of Glorfindel's cruelty preserved safely in Super-8 home movies. I clearly remember seeing one in which Elrohir and I, age one, are sitting in stew pots on the stove, wrapped neck to toe in tensor bandages and looking very frustrated. I only saw that film twice, in secret- dad refused to show it when mum was around because it made her even angrier than the one of Glorfindel tossing Elrohir, age six, into what looked like a deep snowdrift but turned out to be a mound of hard-packed snow at the Caradhras ski resort.
But Glorfindel didn't look at all vicious toward these strange babies. In fact, he looked downright ecstatic. I hope this was only to suck up to Aralindë and make her feel better about the pregnancy, and not because he's decided he wants to father multiple wee terrors of his own any time soon.
The evening passed uneventfully for Glorfindel and Aralindë, who sat on the sofa with sleeping babies deciding on what name they should give their own. In the car on the way home they told me they picked Elairon Almárëo for a boy and Fairien Arafindë for a girl. I was not there for the actual name-picking process, being at the time forced to play a game with the five little poofarts. The game involved me very slowly and painfully trying to climb up the stairs while they pulled at my arms and legs and hair to stop me. I can still feel their sticky little hands pawing at my clothes and hear their shrill squeals ringing in my ears.
For my efforts I was paid about enough to buy myself lunch at a moderately priced restaurant. After several seconds of careful thought, I decided the crummy pay certainly wasn't adequate for the work. Babysitter wages really ought to be calculated in direct proportion to the number of four-year-olds to be sat. If I ever have kids (yeah right!), I'll have to remember to pay the sitter accordingly.
Since my entire body was still sore from struggling with those little demons last night, I opted to sit on the sofa and watch television for the morning. I watched a scientific programme about the mating habits of wild animals. It inspired me to spend the afternoon conducting a scientific observation of Glorfindel and Aralindë.
The Elf male starts of by bringing his mate a bowl of grapes. She smiles and gives him a kiss as a reward. Obviously some sort of mating behaviour activity focused on winning her favour, and it seems to be working. The scientific observer notes how she is now in the mood for snuggling. Confident that she will be receptive to further fooling around, the male moves on to flirtatiously playing with her hair and clothing.
But wait: there is a disturbance nearby. Sensing danger, the male lifts his head and gazes around. On the street outside, some shady youths are throwing pinecones at his car. This is taken as a threat not only to his property, but also his authority and the safety of his family. In an act of defence, he rushes out to confront them by baring his teeth, waving his arms, and shouting obscene phrases. The younger specimens flee from his obvious alpha-male superiority. Satisfied that his territory is safe, he returns to his mate on the sofa. She is clearly impressed by this display of masculine power and is in the mood for further snuggling.
After several minutes of affectionate flirting, the two Elves move on to a more secluded and private location to continue their pair-bonding sexual activity. Even though it is evident that the female is already pregnant, the pair continues to mate on a daily basis. Scientists speculate that this activity strengthens the bond between the two while also acting as incentive for the father to stick around and help care for the baby. They also speculate that the male in this case is simply a horny little sod.
For safety reasons, our crew will not observe the mating act itself. Elves prefer to mate in private, and any intrusions are usually met with threats and ultimately violence. Additionally, it is just plain icky, and this humble scientist has absolutely no desire to watch. He will, however, continue to observe the pair once they come back downstairs for food.
Uh-oh, it appears as if we've been spotted. Once again the male resorts to intimidation tactics in an effort to scare away the observing scientist. He charges towar
Well, at least he didn't break the computer. The scientific mind speculates that such over-the-top violence was due to the fact that he felt threatened in his home environment and was attempting to both protect and impress his mate. One can assume that if he had been observed alone in a neutral environment, as has happened many times before, he would have settled for simply half-arsedly tossing an empty cola bottle in the general direction of the scientist, instead of going for the full-out bodily attack.
In conclusion, this scientist believes that much more research could potentially be done into the mating habits of Elves. The research could be made into a 12-part miniseries that aired on cable late at night. It would be a hit in Gondor. They'll watch any reality-based show down there, especially if it has to do with sex. I think I might have to borrow dad's Mini-DV camcorder and get to work on this. I could make a fortune!
Elrohir got back late last night. The first thing he asked was if I remembered to feed the Iguana. I was truthfully able to tell him that I had. Ardlor was with him. Ardlor plans to stay with us until his flight back to Caras Galadhon on Sunday. I'm not really sure why he can't stay at a hotel like a normal person, since there's honestly no room here and he ended up sleeping in the fort with Elrohir and the iguana last night. I wonder if Rumil knows what he gets up to when he's off on tours and making movies?
Anyway, I think we have plans to go out tonight. Ardlor wants to see some of the clubs here, and Elrohir's with that idea. And Erestor too, strangely. I think he might be up to something sneaky, because he convinced Aralindë to come with us. Of course if Aralindë goes that means Glorfindel's going to tag along too, even though he's frightened of gay clubs. I asked Erestor what he was up to, but he just grinned and said, "Nothing," so I know that means he has something in mind. ...Now that I think about it, I'm sure Elrohir is planning something too. He has a funny look in his eye. But knowing him, the plans are probably for something like making Jell-O with two different flavours of Jell-O powder mixed together.
LATER: I think I have to write this down now while I remember and am still coherent enough to make angry comments. To set the scene, Elrohir and Ardlor are currently giving the iguana a bath, while Glorfindel and Aralindë are doing something unmentionable with Erestor! I should have known that was his plan. He's been trying to get into bed with Glorfindel for years. And since Glorfindel would never agree to something like this on his own, Erestor had to resort to sneaky tactics. I think I'll have to gloss over the whole scam from the beginning.
Elrohir, Ardlor and I arrived at the club first, waiting around outside in the car park until Glorfindel and Aralindë drove up two minutes later. Glorfindel explained that Erestor had gone home to change and would be joining us soon, so we went in without him. I think Elrohir must've been in on this plan somehow too, because he immediately dragged Aralindë out onto the dance floor, leaving Glorfindel by himself at the bar to be hit on by pretty much everyone. Needless to say he was very thankful when Erestor showed up to save him.
Unfortunately, Erestor then proceeded to make a scene, and his scene was loud enough so that everyone around the bar was soon under the impression that Glorfindel was his lover who ditched him in favour of some little rich girl. Glorfindel yelled back and told Erestor to stop being an idiot, but nobody seemed to be on his side. They all cheered in support of Erestor. Elrohir brought Aralindë back right on time, and Glorfindel clung to her in desperation. Erestor kept screeching.
Then the inexplicable happened. While Erestor was busy sobbing on Aralindë's shoulder (rather literally) that he hoped she and Glorfindel would be very happy together now that he was miserable, she decided that she felt sorry for him. She said that she hadn't realised the two of them had a relationship, and felt awful for coming between them. So when Erestor said all he wanted was one last night with Glorfindel, she agreed! The crowd cheered. Glorfindel hollered in protest. The crowd booed. Aralindë told him not to be such an inconsiderate complainer. Erestor told her she was a very good girlfriend, and invited her to join in the festivities. She said that sounded like fun as she and Erestor dragged Glorfindel out to the car park.
I was about to go after Erestor and tell him exactly what I thought about this arrangement, but Elrohir and Ardlor decided it would be better for me to join them on the dance floor. It took all of two minutes for Ardlor to start hinting at what happened last time the three of us were at a gay disco together. It's very difficult to pretend you don't hear somebody when he's yelling in your ear. I asked him what Rumil would think of all this, but he only assured me that they have a very liberal relationship. Then he drank another Rev and spent the next half hour bouncing around with one hand on my bum and the other on Elrohir's hip. But he bought me a Rev too (something Erestor notably did not do while he was here!) so I didn't really mind.
We headed home after about two hours of loud, sweaty dancing and several more drinks. By this time I'd firmly made up my mind to cheat on Erestor, since he was busy cheating on me. Ardlor was very supportive of this idea and kept trying to get into my pants in the car on the way home. I've never had sex in the back of a car before, and got pretty close, but then Elrohir almost drove into the median for watching us in the rear-view mirror and the panicked near-miss ruined the moment.
When we got home Aralindë was sitting at the kitchen table, wearing Glorfindel's bathrobe, drinking tea, and reading the television guide. She chipperly told us that Glorfindel was being uncooperative so they had to blindfold him and fix him to the bed with Elrohir's glittery handcuffs and did Elrohir mind? All Glorfindel's screeching was giving her a headache so she was relaxing with some tea until Erestor got things under control. Then Elrohir and Ardlor and I all stood around feeling a bit dumb for a minute, until Erestor yelled down through the hole that Glorfindel was being more uncooperative than ever and Aralindë had better come back up to calm him down.
I'm not too sure exactly what ruined the sexy mood, but it was probably the mental image of Erestor and Aralindë naked together. Then Elrohir lamely asked if we wanted to help him bathe the iguana, which he'd earlier in the day noticed smelled a bit dungy, and all remaining shreds of sexiness dissipated. He and Ardlor are washing the iguana now. I am sitting at the computer, frustrated at having to listen to Glorfindel's howling, Aralindë's reprimands, and Erestor's dirty comments through the wall. I think I'm beginning to understand why homicides occur. The one time I am really desperate to cheat on Erestor, and nothing is going my way!
Oh wait... Elrohir just bounced in wearing the lacy red thong and the iguana on his head (only the iguana is on his head, not the thong). He put on a loud CD and is now dancing on the tyre swing and singing along with "Some Of You Boys". The music is almost loud enough to drown out the noises from the next room. Ardlor is dripping wet and smirking in the doorway. I think he gave Elrohir a bath along with the iguana. He also appears to have found the tube of cherry-flavoured personal lubricant. The night just took a turn for the better.
the next day...
Elladan is good. hes walking around in the party and doing stuff. Only Glorfindel gave thius a pot cookie and alot of alcohol so he doesnt seem to be himself.He just stopped inthe middle of the floor and is looking at his hands../now hes looking at his hair and blinking kind of a lot. I think he might be like stoned or somethin....cool...
This music is awesome...way bettr than the musict hat was here befor. whoa hittign the shift button five times in a row makse this funny thing come up that i have to click on. Oh yeah this is Elrohir because Elladan you cant write in youre computer right now/ youre to out of it. but I know you write here everyday so I htought I should do it for youor something so tomrorrow you remember at the party you threw up on my cat and missed the can. ...how can you tyupe so fast, this is hard...I think ELladan writes what heppens everyday so Ill do that now. today Ardlor was still here and we wante dto have this awsome party so I invited like fifty peolpel from the film and they came over to hang out. We were like drinking and sttuff and Elladn thought we would break the furninture or whatever so Ardlor gave him this drnik to make him less hyper, it was mostly rum, but the funny part was when glorfindl got him to eat this cookie that had like pot init. Me and Ardlor adn Glorfindel also ahd cookies but theyre not as stoned as Elladan, he ckeeps lloking at me... now hes yelling becase im yusing the computer. now he wants to type something- this isElladan typing...
my brain thinks it's being stung by the orangelight
cool Elldan went away now to teh bathroom again. he iS real sick maybe. hE IS GOIN GTHRU ALL THES QENya bverb conjugatines and multiplecations tables so he doenst pass out. I Should help so he doesnt die.Glorfindel can write in the compuret now./
Not sure what I'm supposed to do, but this is LL watching the computer while Elrohir assists Elladan in whatever he's doing on the bathroom floor. Stupid kids can't hold their chems. Elrohir's not watching anyway so I'm just going to turn this thing off.
I am hungover. Really, really, really, really, really, really, really hungover. In fact I don't even want to be typing this right now but Elrohir said he did my daily journal entry for me last night and the curiosity/fear got the better of me so I had to read it. Not that it makes much sense.
First order of business, I am going to kill Glorfindel for giving me that cookie. It made my insides feel like they were sinking. I have no idea how people can use that stuff recreationally, especially people like Aragorn who use it every day. I can honestly say that last night was the worst experience in my life. Far worse than getting accidentally locked in the change room while the rest of my highschool P.E. class went for ice cream on the last day of school.
Second order of business, I am going to spend the rest of the day on the sofa. My head is still spinning and I still feel sick. Elrohir had to take Ardlor to the airport alone, since I am in no condition to leave the house. I hope he comes back soon, since he's very good at bringing me tea and egg mush and being a comforting presence now that I've firmly made up my mind not to have any further involvement with Erestor. Also he's good to lean against so that I have to put no effort whatsoever into keeping my body in a sitting position.
I would ring Erestor to tell him we're through, but the cordless is all the way up in the biff and I'm far too groggy to go up there and get it.
Elrohir is the best brother in the world. Not only does he make me supper and hold my hair out of the way so it doesn't fall in my soup while I eat (still recovering from Saturday, still a bit dizzy and sick), but he also takes it upon himself to fix personal problems as well. I should get him a present. And possibly start feeling guilty for all the unkind things I've though or said about him in the past. I know my journal is full of them, and I feel a bit ashamed of it.
Elrohir broke up with Erestor for me. He dressed up in my clothes, fixed his hair like mine, and went down to Erestor's office this morning for a chat. If Erestor was too thick to tell that he was talking to Elrohir and not me, then he deserves to be broken up with. I must remember to commend Elrohir for braving the stick-on labels. I would have lost my nerve. But he did it, and Erestor is now out of the picture. He says Erestor cried, and even though I don't believe that, it was kind of him to think of saying so.
If I felt like getting dressed I would go downstairs and help him put up with Aragorn's friends, who converged on the house about an hour ago with something that Halbarad calls a "business proposition". I'm well aware that "business proposition" is code for "idiotic scheme", so I'm not too keen on getting involved. I think it involves our car, though, because they keep going outside and saying, "Four would fit in there for sure."
Now they're hauling sleeping bags and beer coolers out to the front lawn, along with various items that I recognise from my and Elrohir's stash of camping things. I don't know what's going on, but it can only be bad. Or possibly headache-inducing. I'd better go find out.
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.