14. The Elladan Show: 3
The first week of classes is now over, and I'm not insane yet. So with any luck, I'll live through this semester. My History 340 course (the middle class in early Númenor) is the most boring thing I can imagine, except for maybe Poli Sci 412 (modern political philosophy of Mirkwood). Poli Sci 434 (politics and the media) at least looks halfway interesting; we watched some newsreels last class, and I hope it doesn't get any more difficult than that. Poli Sci 441 (Elven governments in world politics) has a frightening syllabus that includes reference to a 30-page term paper, but at least the professor seems like fun. Then there's Conversational Quenya 300, which is pretty much like the title says, only Elrohir's in that class and he's loud. And I think he might be better than me, which causes some worry. He can't read or write in proper Quenya worth a hill of beans, but he can carry off a perfect conversation.
Speaking of Elrohir, he's getting homesick for his iguana. He's telephoned dad every night so far to make sure he's feeding it and handling it lovingly. Dad said he doesn't mind the feeding part, but he's a bit afraid to touch it so he leaves the handling to Erestor. Last night Elrohir made Erestor hold the iguana up to the phone so it could hear his voice over the line. He was very disappointed when Erestor told him the iguana didn't react at all. Dad had to find the cat and scratch its ears until it purred loud enough for Elrohir to hear just to make up for the apathetic iguana's lack of courtesy.
I don't think anything else worth mentioning happened all week. I got most of my stuff unpacked, except for a few things that won't fit. They went sort of wadded-up under my bed. I have no idea where I'm going to put the stuff dad's sending on the bus. Elrohir's stuff didn't fit in his room either. He came over on Tuesday to see if he could put some of his clothes in my closet just as I was opening the door to go ask the same of him. We both agreed that dorm rooms twp meters by three meters squared just aren't big enough. Then he invited me to his room-warming party. I wandered over briefly (he lives four doors down) but was unable to fit inside since there were already five other people in there.
Come to think of it, I'm pretty sure Elrohir's been having a party in his room every night this week. Tuesday was the room-warming party, Wednesday was the secretive drinking party, Thursday was a pyjama party (with secretive drinking), and Friday was another secretive drinking party. He's not having a party tonight, though, on account of how there's a Welcome Week Cabaret in the Uni Centre multipurpose room. The cabaret theme is "Second Age Disco Casual". I have absolutely no desire to go. I don't look good at all in flared trousers and polyester shirts with huge collars.
I ended up going to the cabaret. Elrohir showed up at my door at quarter past eleven, just as I was in the middle of marking important dates on my calendar. He wouldn't leave. I tried ignoring him for a while, but Elrohir is a very difficult person to ignore. He bounced on my bed while shouting "What're you doing now? What're you doing now? What're you doing now?" until I gave up and agreed to go down to the cabaret. That involved first going to his room and being dressed in a ridiculous Second Age-type outfit. I looked an awful lot like Erestor in old photos. Elrohir later informed me that he'd stolen the clothes out of Erestor's closet a few years back for a different uni cabaret and he never bothered to return them.
Now uni cabarets are not in fact "cabarets" in the best sense of the word. They're more like a room full of students drinking on school property while a DJ plays. Really, like a high school dance with alcohol. Lots of alcohol. It was pretty much a room full of drunken students wearing their parents' old clothes and dancing to the Bee Gees. Elrohir fit right in, being tipsy himself and wearing a shirt that I recognised as one of dad's that somehow worked its way into the dressups. He danced with one hand pointing into the air and the other hand firmly around his Rev.
I mostly stood along the walls and pretended to be really interested in my paralyser. I recognised all of two people there: one loud girl from PSCI 412 named Cerithwen, and a guy from PSCI 434. I think his name is Aerthos. He sort of smiled and waved at me from across the room. I was too stupid to do anything more than smile and wave back. Thus I spent the entire cabaret standing by myself, except for one song when Elrohir forced me to dance. I had to wait until three before he was ready to stumble back to the residence. And to think I could have spent that time checking my email or something useful!
Aerthos smiled and waved at me in class today. He sits on the opposite side of the room. I smiled and waved back. Nothing further came of the encounter. If the same thing happens on Thursday, I might have to suspect that he's interested in getting to know me or something, and not just smiling and waving in a "hey I saw you at that dumb cabaret on Saturday" sort of way.
He smiled and waved again. I smiled and waved back again. I'm sure this must mean something.
I am starting to severely dislike Conversational Quenya 300. The professor seems to be under the impression that since Elrohir and I are twins, we must want to do pair work together instead of with other (less insane) members of the class. And everything is done in pairs. Today's assignment, due on Monday, is to write a two-page interview to be performed in front of the class. What I'm going to interview Elrohir about is anyone's guess. The only topics on which I'd trust his authority are Nintendo games and iguanas. Possibly also skateboards.
We were supposed to get together tonight after supper to work on the assignment, but since I saw Elrohir wandering down the corridor an hour ago wearing his swimmers, I somehow don't think he's going to remember.
The Conversational Quenya interview was a disaster. For me, at least. I'm sure Elrohir's going to get a great mark on it. Which only heightens my irritation.
We did no planning whatsoever, unless you count Elrohir finally coming round to my room at ten last night to say, "Yeah, you just write out some questions and I'll answer them with whatever I think of." That didn't give me much to go on, so in retaliation I wrote out fifteen intellectual questions on the topic of world politics in the present and foreseeable future. It seemed like a good idea at the time.
Elrohir showed up for class carrying a large bag full of what turned out to be costume items. When our turn came to perform, he pulled out a velour cape and his cheap blonde wig and announced to the class that he would be playing the role of Finarfin for this interview. I was suddenly very sorry I'd chosen to do a political interview, because that actually made sense. In hindsight, it would have been far more interesting to interview "Finarfin" about lizards and skateboarding. Trust Elrohir to foil my scheme without even trying or knowing.
He answered each question flawlessly. Of course his answers were completely made-up and probably way off the mark in terms of what Finarfin would actually say, but I'll bet nobody cared about that. They were all too impressed with the fact that he "knew his lines so well". I didn't bother to mention that he was improvising as we went along, because that would have only impressed them further and made me look even worse. And I was pretty awful already. Elrohir's irritatingly sensible answers shook my concentration and made me forget what I was supposed to say, so I had to keep looking down at the paper.
It's not that I really mind Elrohir being good at something. It's just I don't like him being better than me. Especially when there are witnesses.
There was more smiling and waving from Aerthos today, though this time there was also a nod that was distinctly of the "hey how's it going" variety. I think that might count as progress.
Also, dad finally sent my box of stuff. I had to walk down to the bus depot to collect it (it took forty minutes) and take a taxi back (no way was I walking with that box), but at least now I have my DVD and CD collections which will, in theory, make my dorm room more entertaining. Also my dumb Noldo costume to wear to the Fiommereth Formal, though it was mostly in there for padding. I also noticed that dad had stuck in a few extra things (probably to fill the box), which was a nice thought. Though when I'll ever need a half-empty jar of seafood sauce and four tea towels is anyone's guess.
We got our marks back for the Quenya interview. Elrohir got ten out of ten. I got six and a half. That just doesn't seem fair somehow.
Aerthos was standing by the classroom door today. He said, "Hey," as I passed. I said, "Hey" back. We had a brief and intellectually stunning conversation that went something like this:
Him: So, you were at that cabaret last Saturday?
Me: Yeah, my brother wanted to go. I'm not really into that stuff.
Him: Yeah, me neither, I just went with my roommate.
Me: Oh yeah, cool.
Me: So, uhhh...
Him: Guess we'd better sit down, class is about to start.
Me: Yeah, I guess.
Then I sat in my place and he sat in his, and that was that. I hung around the doorway after class to see if he'd stop and talk again, but he went to ask the prof a question. I felt like a dork waiting around for more than five minutes, so I left without talking to him again.
The first of the toga parties has come and gone. I thankfully managed to avoid it. I did view some of the festivities from a safe distance, though. It was being held in the residence lounge area on our floor; Elrohir and some others had pushed the sofas against the walls to make room for toga fun. Then they all dressed up in bed sheets and acted like goofs until three in the morning. I'm sure the people on the floor below mustn't have been impressed with all the noise. And to make things worse, I think Elrohir is planning on making this a regular feature of residence life. The last thing I heard before I snuck away was,
Elrohir: Next time we need to smuggle some beer past the floor monitor!
Random guy in navy toga: I'm the floor monitor.
Elrohir: Can we smuggle beer past you?
Random guy: Yeah, that's cool.
I'll have to remember to be too busy to attend that one too.
Naturally, I am paired with Elrohir for another lame Quenya assignment. This one, which the prof introduced as "fun", involves us pretending to be on a television show. It doesn't matter what show, so long as everything's performed in Quenya. I just know Elrohir has some crazy idea. I saw his face light up the minute the prof announced the topic. I'm having one of those "I don't want to be part of this" premonitions.
We have a week to work on it this time, but knowing Elrohir, he'll keep putting off doing his part of the work until Sunday night. Actually I probably will too. I'm starting to hate this class.
I had another brief conversation with Aerthos before class today. I told him I liked his shirt. He smiled and told me he just bought it two weeks ago, on sale for 25% off. According to an article called "Ten Ways To Tell He's Interested" I read in one of Arwen's girl magazines once, it's a good sign when he mentions where/how he acquired the shirt instead of just saying "thanks". Surely this means something?
I had a rather intimate dream involving Aerthos last night. I'm pretty sure I know what it means. I think I might be in love with him. Or at least lust. And to be honest, either would be more than welcome right now. I haven't gotten lucky since February, and that was with Ardlor of all people. I need a new boyfriend. One who isn't Erestor. One who is actually close to my age and has some common interests.
I will have to talk to him tomorrow and maybe ask him out for some sort of coffee-like activity. Or ask him over here to study for the PSCI 434 test next week. That might be a better plan. Then it's not actually a date. Not that he knows of, at least.
I think this has been the best day of the semester so far. I talked to Aerthos, but not exactly in the context I was thinking of last night. Not that I'm complaining. Actually, it all went far better than I had hoped.
After class, as I was leaving to go over to the Uni Centre food court, Aerthos ran up and asked me if I was going for lunch. I said "yes". He said, "Cool, I was just going to get pizza. I'll come with you."
He bought vegetarian pizza (I hope he's not another Glorfindel), I bought a turkey sandwich, and we sat together in the trendy coffee-shop part of the food court where there are fancy lights on the wall and the tables are round. Mostly we talked about class, but the conversation eventually moved on to general getting-to-know-each-other stuff. His parents live in Forlond, and he has no brothers or sisters. I told him he's lucky, and informed him of the perils of Elrohir and Arwen. He said he's seen Arwen on telly a few times, and dad too. Then he asked if it was ever weird being part of such a famous family. I had to say no, since I don't really know any other sort of life: it seems normal for television crews to show up a few times a year to tape dad giving some dumb speech. Though I guess it has taken some of the magic away from the concept of celebrity. I just know that no matter how perfect he looks on television, off-camera Ingwë is probably just like dad, doing crossword puzzles on the biff and having late fines at the video store.
Aerthos laughed and said he couldn't imagine the legendary Elrond doing crossword puzzles or even going to the biff. I assured him that the legendary Elrond was far more normal than people care to think, and told him about the time dad locked his keys in the car and waited around for half an hour for EAA to show up before he realised he'd left the passenger side unlocked. Also about the time we were at the beach and a dragonfly ate a spider off of his head without him even knowing. And about his wearing loud, small swim shorts and singing along with the Beach Boys while he vacuums the pool.
At this, Aerthos got a look of divine inspiration and said that we should do a project on the secret lives of politicians for 434. The choice is to either write a term paper or do a class-presentation project, so why not use my tabloid-worthy knowledge and have some fun? I agreed that this sounded like a good idea. The world needs to know that Elrond isn't as grand as they make him out to be on the evening news. Or at least the class needs to know. That might be better. Dad will probably be less mad at me for showing twenty people how lame he is, as opposed to six billion.
In any case, I think this means that Aerthos and I are together for doing this project. I have a legitimate reason to talk to him now, and ask for his phone number. Maybe even invite him over late at night. For special class project purposes, of course. Which reminds me, my Quenya assignment with Elrohir is due tomorrow. Maybe I should start on my part of that and assume he's forgotten about his.
Elrohir came by my room very late last night, right as I was finishing playing pinball and about to get started on the Quenya. He was carrying some papers. He said, "Here, I'm done the assignment, these are your lines you have to learn for tomorrow," and he handed me a script. It felt sort of weird for Elrohir to have done all the work, but since it was midnight and I hadn't done anything yet, I didn't really care.
I looked over the script. It called for me to be a news anchor in Tirion while he was a foreign correspondent in Valmar reporting on the festivities for Ingwë's birthday. It seemed structurally sound. Also structurally idiotic, but at least it was done so I couldn't really complain. And Elrohir had more lines than I, which was good. I just had to ask him questions about the situation and pretend to be interested.
Of course Elrohir wore his blond wig and some makeshift Vanya outfit (which looked an awful lot like a bathrobe over a backwards track suit) for the in-class performance today. I just wore a black sport coat that I thought looked rather news-anchorish. All in all, it went very well. Much better than the interview. I remembered all my lines, and the prof congratulated us on a "first-rate effort" afterward. She commended Elrohir on his impressive Vanyarin accent and dialect. Then she turned to me and said, "And that's a very professional suit, Elladan. You do look like a news anchor." Which is better than nothing, I guess.
I spent the weekend mostly watching DVDs and kicking myself for not asking Aerthos for his phone number on Thursday. I'm sure we could've gotten around to doing lots of schoolwork-related activities over the past two days. Or maybe just doing-related activities of the non-schoolwork variety. That would've been fine by me, really.
We got the marks for the Quenya project back today. I got nine out of ten, which was a relief. Elrohir got eleven out of ten. I'm not entirely sure how that's even possible. Our prof must've failed the unit on fractions and percentages back in grade three.
Aerthos was not in class today. My hopes of actually asking for his phone number were crushed. I spent another evening alone at the computer. I'm getting really good at Minesweeper.
Aerthos was not in class today either. I am starting to worry. It would be highly unlikely that he was just a figment of my rather desperate imagination, but the way my life has been going lately, I wouldn't be too surprised if that turned out to be the case. I hope he's back on Tuesday. I need something to agonise over, and schoolwork just doesn't seem interesting enough this term.
The phone rang shortly after six this morning. It was Arwen. She doesn't seem to understand the concept of time zones, nor the fact that it's several hours earlier here than in Minas Tirith.
She started off thanking me for the nice postcard I sent, which in truth I had completely forgotten about. I think I wrote something vague like, "Dear Arwen, having a great time and thinking of you here in the Grey Havens." But Arwen loves getting mail. Really, she loves anything that indicates people are paying attention to her. So I naturally started off asking about how her new married life is going.
For the first ten minutes, she praised Aragorn about this, that and the other thing, saying how he's so sweet and considerate and adorable. But gradually the complaints came out. Her main grievance was that she couldn't understand how somebody like Aragorn, who is used to pooping in the woods, could possibly go through nearly an entire toilet roll per day. Their toilet roll budget is hovering around $10 a week. She banged on about this for a good twenty minutes, down to the last detail. She has it worked out that she goes to the biff an average of four times per day, and uses an average of eleven squares per go. There are four hundred squares on a roll, so even considering that Aragorn eats more and maybe goes to the biff five times per day, using fifteen squares per go, they shouldn't between the two of them go through more than an average of 119 squares per day, or 30% of a roll. And that's not even taking into consideration that she's only been monitoring toilet roll usage for their en-suite bathroom and that Aragorn could very well be going in other bathrooms around the house too. Also that he is a man and doesn't really need toilet roll at all when he pees. The whole situation is rather perplexing.
I listened to her complain about that and other stuff (he leaves stubble in the basin after trimming his beard, his toenails are long and pokey, he sometimes forgets to brush his teeth before bed when he's had meat lover's pizza for supper). Slowly it dawned on me that she needs a hobby to take her mind off of Aragorn's shortfalls. I think I'll have to send her a book on knitting or something.
By twenty after eight she had more or less talked herself out, so I let her go with a promise that I'd send her another postcard sometime. Then I climbed back into bed, but I kept having dreams about Aragorn on the toilet, so I got up again and played Minesweeper for a while before it was time to go for breakfast. Next time Arwen rings, I'll let her complain to Elrohir.
Entirely uneventful weekend. I didn't even see Elrohir around at all. The most exciting thing that happened to me was that I beat the medium level on Minesweeper. I rang dad but nothing too interesting was happening in Rivendell either. He and Erestor were having a fight over alleged defamation in front of the dishwasher repairman. Apparently Erestor had put Dawn liquid in the dishwasher instead of Cascade liquid, causing much foam all over the kitchen floor and a burned-out dishwasher motor. When the repairman asked who put the wrong soap in, Erestor said, "Elrond did it." The repairman gave dad a "look". Dad was so upset over being wrongfully embarrassed that he hasn't spoken to Erestor since.
About two hours later Erestor rang to inform me that though it had been he who put the wrong liquid in the dishwasher, it was actually dad's fault since he refilled the Cascade bottle with Dawn and neglected to tell Erestor of the switch. I made sure to thank him for taking time out of his busy schedule to tell me this.
I ended up skipping Conversational Quenya today in favour of playing Minesweeper. I'm sure Elrohir will tell me what I missed. I only left my room twice all day, for lunch and supper. I didn't really want to leave the computer, my usage of which is starting to reach potentially harmful proportions. I'm starting to feel a sense of loss whenever I turn it off.
Aerthos is back! His cousin Gwethaer was getting married last week, he said, so his entire family flew to Dol Amroth for the wedding. We talked for nearly an hour in the corridor after class. I forgot to ask him for his number, though. I think I might be stupid.
I forgot again. Actually, that's not quite true. I had the thought to ask for his number lingering in the back of my mind. But the opportune moment never came. Then he left in a hurry to catch the bus. This isn't going very well at all.
The Conversational Quenya prof has assigned our final project. It's in groups of four this time, so Elrohir and I are working with two dunces named Talathuir and Nova. Talathuir is from Mirkwood and can't speak Quenya to save his life, and Nova is just sort of dumb overall. The most interesting thing about her is that her parents claim she was conceived in the back of a Chevy Nova (hence the peculiar name).
All three of us quickly agreed that Elrohir should be in charge of planning everything. Elrohir agreed to this as well. I don't even want to think about what he has in mind. As long as I get a good mark, it'll all be fine by me.
I'm sure I would have had an interesting weekend if I would've remembered to ask Aerthos for his phone number.
Arwen rang this morning to say that she was on the cover of Vanity Fair, then grandma rang to say the same thing, then dad. I pretended I was happy for her. Dad also told me that Erestor was awarded second prize in a limerick contest from Home Depot. He won a windsock shaped like a fish. Then later Elrohir said he saw the weatherman from channel seven in the uni bookshop.
Exciting stuff happens to everyone but me!
I think Monday the 13th must be just as unlucky as Friday. First, I forgot to set my alarm, so I didn't wake up in time to shower before Conversational Quenya. We had a test in class, too. When I finally did get time to shower, first I forgot my shampoo. Then when I went back to get my shampoo I must've left my towel on my bed. I had to get dressed soaking wet to walk back to my room, then rush to dry off and get dressed again when I saw the time. In PSCI 412 I got my tangled, damp hair caught on a screw in the back of my chair somehow. I had to wait until the end of class for the prof to get out his scissors and free me. I breathed a sigh of relief to finally get back to my room, then promptly stubbed my toe on my desk chair.
But the crowning turd on this dung-heap of a day came when Elrohir stopped by to inform me that, in a fit of Nintendo-induced excitement, he'd spilled an entire can of Fresca on his mattress and needs to share my room while it dries. I will surely go crazy. I go crazy sharing a bedroom with him, let alone a single bed.
I got little sleep last night due to- who else!- Elrohir. For the first hour he talked about bugs and spiders while eating Pringles and getting crumbs in the sheets. For the second hour he poked my face and kept asking, "Are you asleep?" When he finally dozed off, he breathed through pursed lips and made a high-pitched whistling noise. After twenty minutes of that I felt like tearing my ears off, so something had to be done. As carefully as possible I tried to roll him onto the floor, but he sort of landed with a thud and woke up. He looked around blearily for a moment before asking, "Where did all the people go?" I pretended to be asleep. He climbed back into bed. Within ten minutes he was whistling again. I must've eventually fallen asleep because I woke up some time later when his arm reached under my pillow. To retrieve some secret Oreos he'd stashed there, he explained.
When I woke up this morning I had a crashing headache and a piece of my hair was in Elrohir's mouth, covered in slime and Oreo crumbs. I got dressed, went to class, and spent the next several hours contemplating how to dispose of him. It wasn't until I got back to my room that I realised I hadn't spoken to Aerthos at all. And with my luck, he probably thinks I'm ignoring him now! This is just great! And entirely Elrohir's fault!
This morning I awoke to Elrohir colouring on my shoulder with a Jiffy marker. Unable to hold back the rage any longer, I punched him in the groin. He started giggling. I pulled back the blankets to see what was so funny, since I hit him pretty hard and I'd hoped he'd at least say "ow". He was wearing about ten pairs of trousers, most of them mine. I punched him in the stomach instead. He fell out of bed and started rolling around on the floor laughing like an idiot. I ended up having to wrestle with him just to steal back a pair of jeans so I could get dressed for class. I also kicked him several times for good measure while he was rolling.
He was still on the floor when I returned, though he had stopped rolling. He was unwrapping Kraft caramels and smushing them into an enormous wad to eat at a later date. Sometimes I really, really wonder what it must be like to be Elrohir. Does he know he's an idiot, or is he too blissfully ignorant to figure that out?
Last night I went to Elrohir's room to check out his mattress. It went "squish". I think he might've spilled more than a can of Fresca on there. But I gathered up the non-Fresca-covered blankets and hauled them back to my room, along with his pillow. Then I proceeded to make a nest for Elrohir in the hidey-hole under my desk. It was just big enough for him to curl up in. He was thrilled. I was likewise thrilled to have him out of my bed. I actually managed to get a decent sleep, and Elrohir was still sleeping soundly when I got up to go to class. With any luck, he'll stay asleep until his mattress is dry.
I made sure to let Aerthos know that I wasn't ignoring him today. He seemed a bit distant though. I hope he's not upset over my near-homicidal behaviour on Tuesday.
Elrohir is still living in the hidey-hole, though he's made a few "improvements". His nest now has a radio, a snack stash, and a picture of a lizard from a Telus ad he printed off the internet. I'm starting to worry that he won't want to move out once his mattress is dry. Such things are a real danger when dealing with Elrohir.
It is becoming increasingly difficult to use the computer with Elrohir living under my desk. He keeps tickling my ankle and telling me it's a spider. I've not played Minesweeper in over 48 hours. Which I suppose is a good thing. Maybe Elrohir does have a few convoluted, roundabout uses after all.
Talathuir and Nova came by after supper to work on our Quenya project. It was a bit cramped with four of us in my room, so we went to the library. We managed to accomplish the following:
1) Talathuir will play the role of a tourist from Mirkwood who can't speak Quenya.
2) Nova will be a voice that is heard only over the telephone.
3) I will be the narrator.
4) Elrohir will have exponentially more lines than anyone else.
We still don't know what this project will be about, other than that a tourist from Mirkwood is somehow involved. We're having another meeting on Friday. Hopefully something will be decided by then, since this is due in one month and we really need to get started. It's worth 35% of our final grade.
I just realised that all of my term projects and papers are due in less than a month. Including my media project with Aerthos. I really should get around to asking him for his number instead of just acting casually disinterested as overcompensation for my fear that he'll think I'm too eager and desperate (which I am, but I can't let him know that). That approach is getting me nowhere.
Still nowhere. Crap! Though on the plus side, I got started on my history term paper. I now have a topic and a vague mental outline of what I might think about doing.
Elrohir is having another toga party tonight. He's wearing his spare sheet. He offered to lend me his main sheet to wear, since mine is (very unfortunately) hideously jewel-toned and completely inappropriate. However, as I'm not too keen on wearing a sticky Fresca sheet as a toga and acting like a moron among people I don't know and don't like, I think I might have to pass.
I woke up early this morning to Elrohir shifting around and dropping things. It was six o'clock. He had just realised, after a cryptic dream, that he can flip his mattress over and use the non-sticky side, so he was going back to his own room. He didn't explain why he was doing so right then instead of waiting until a decent time. And I didn't really care. I was just glad to have him gone. His antics drive me mad. And everything he does can be reasonably classified as "antics".
Since I was already up, and it was later in Rivendell, I decided to ring dad. I figured he'd be awake, so naturally I was a bit surprised when a sleepy voice came over the line. It was Erestor. I asked him if dad was up. He said, "Just a second..." Then I distinctly heard him say in the background, "It's for you," before dad came on a second later. Something wasn't right there. But I chatted with dad for a few minutes anyhow. It was only several minutes later, after I'd hung up, that I realised the only way for dad and Erestor to be a) asleep and b) within an arm's reach of each other was if they WERE IN BED TOGETHER!!!
I rang back straight away. Erestor answered again. I asked, "Are you in bed with my dad?!" I heard him say "Nnnnrrrr..." and heard something that sounded rather like him flopping backward onto pillows before dad picked up. Again I asked, "Are you two in bed together?!" to which dad groggily said, "Look, I'm too tired to talk about this now- I'll ring you back in a few hours." He never did.
All I can say is that I'm shocked and appalled! Dad! And ERESTOR!!! That's just wrong on every conceivable level! I mean, dad and anybody is pretty wrong, but Erestor?!
I went to tell Elrohir, but he just sort of nodded and said, "Dude, that's weird," without even looking up from the Playstation. I didn't try for a better response. Though on my way out I noted that he'd flipped up his mattress into sort of a tent against the wall. He's probably planning to sleep under it just for the novelty.
I was close to asking Aerthos for his number today but visions of dad and Erestor kept interrupting my concentration. The fact that I've seen Erestor naked before sure wasn't helping matters any. As a result, the best I got was a plan to meet after class on Thursday to discuss the project.
I think Nova has a crush on Elrohir. After class today she asked me if he's seeing anyone. I said, "Only Potpourri in Harvest Moon." She gave me a blank stare. "It's a game," I said. "One in which you have to run a farm and marry one of the town girls." She continued giving me a blank stare. "A video game," I said. More blank stare. "For Nintendo." She raised an eyebrow in confusion. "He's single and looking," I said. She smiled at that and trotted away.
I didn't have the heart to tell her that if she doesn't know what Nintendo is, she doesn't stand a chance.
Also, I haven't heard back from dad yet on that whole in-bed-with-Erestor situation. I think I'm going to have to assume that he's counting on me forgetting about it. I'll have to ring again early Sunday morning to see if the same thing happens.
I am supposed to go to a PoliSci Balathin cabaret tomorrow, though I am somewhat torn. I want to go because Aerthos will be there, and it would be an excuse to talk to him in a non-school-related way. I don't want to go because the only remotely costumey thing I have here is a dumb vampire cape. I want to go because paralysers are on the drink special. I don't want to go because I hate uni cabarets. Maybe I should toss a coin.
Oh, who am I kidding. If Aerthos is going, I'll be there. We talked about it during our brief project meeting today, which, I might add, was dissatisfyingly on-topic, and he said he's going.
I am involved in the most peculiar Balathin scheme Elrohir has ever thought up. He is being me. I am being him. For an entire 24 hours. We used to play "switch" all the time when we were little, but never for this long. It's proving to be something of a challenge.
Just before midnight last night, Elrohir banged on my door. Even before I could open it all the way he whispered excitedly, "Elladan I have the best idea ever!" Naturally I started to worry. He went on to explain that for Balathin, we were going to be each other. Switch clothes, switch rooms, switch classes, switch everything, until midnight. I asked him if he thought this was a good idea. He said the plan was flawless. For some reason I didn't trust him. But still, I went along with it.
Some minutes later I was in Elrohir's room getting ready to go to sleep. His floor was so entirely covered with random stuff that I had a hard time getting from the door too the bed. Though the bed really looked more like a nest. There was a heap of disordered blankets and a towel covering his mattress. I tried to sleep without the towel, but I guess he hadn't changed his sheets since the Fresca incident, because they were all sticky. The towel came back, but it was scratchy. As can be imagined, I didn't sleep very well.
Elrohir's Alarm went off at 10-15. Conversational Quenya starts at 10-30. I had just enough time to leap out of bed in horror, throw on the clothes Elrohir had left in a wad on the floor (turned out to be a pirate costume) and grab his backpack before taking off in a mad dash for class. When I got there, Elrohir was already in my seat, hair neatly plaited. He was wearing my best corduroy shirt. He gave me an exasperated look, which is probably exactly what I would have done had he shown up for class five minutes late and crashed into the overhead projector. We ended up having a pop quiz on cases, which is just my luck! The one day we do something I'm good at and Elrohir gets the credit! I got 19 out of 20 for him. He got 13 for me. I can never win in that class.
Next he had Narrative Film Studies in the Education Building auditorium, so I got to go watch a video for two hours and then discuss it. And this counts for three credits! I think I'm taking all the wrong courses. I should be enrolled in some of these movie-watching classes. It ended at five, just in time for supper, so I went back to the residence and headed for the cafeteria. The supper lady gave me an extra bun because I was dressed like a pirate.
I was just about to go get ready for the cabaret when I realised, with some measure of panic, that I am unable to go. I have to go to Elrohir's dumb theatre cabaret, and Elrohir will be going to the PoliSci in my place! And I also realised that Aerthos, mistaking him for me, will be accidentally snubbed and all my chances will be ruined! I ran to my room trying to find Elrohir, but he was nowhere to be found. My cabaret ticket was nowhere to be found. I know I left it on the magnet board. This can only mean that he's taken it and intends to go. I have to find him. I know he'll have no fun in a multipurpose room full of PoliSci majors, so it shouldn't be too hard to convince him to give up on our ruse a bit early. I hope...
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.