Tolkien Lover Anonymous 3, The Sil(ly)marillion

[Arcala]

Arcala: *shrugs* Beats me. Maybe we're just here to enjoy the scenery.

ooc: Did we skip to Turin Turambar?

[Earniel]

*Since they have nothing better to do, the TLA walk closer to the house. They hear what sounds like an argument.*

Morwen: You're going.

Túrin: I'm not! I don't want to go to Thingol's court. They say he has cheesy ears, a chocoholic wife and a weird daughter.

Morwen: You better show some more respect to King Thingol because you're going as soon as that escort arrives that I ordered.

*Among the eavedropping TLA*

Arcala: Escort? Uh-Uh.
Christiana: I'm getting a bad feeling about this....
Eärniel: *hums the Darth Vader-theme*

*Suddenly Morwen leaves the house and nearly collides with the TLA who try to look like they were not obviously eavesdropping.*

Morwen: *looks suspiciously* Are you the travel escort I ordered?

Tano: Er, maybe....
Ren: Hypothetically speaking....
Willow: Possibly....
Finrod: What's in it for us?

Morwen: *raised eyebrow and ignores the question* Do you have any experience with guiding children?

GG: *points to Willow, Tano and Katt* They're licenced godmothers.

Morwen: Fair enough. I'll get my son.

*Morwen enters the house and returns a few seconds later with a seven-year old boy.*

Morwen: This is my son, Túrin. Túrin, these people will escort you to King Thingol's court.

*With that she pushes Túrin towards the TLA and leaves them alone with the kid.*

Eärniel: Right.... The TLA goes nanny.
Katt: Shut up.

[Count Comfect]

*awkward silence*

Eärniel: Well, you said shut up.

Tano: Wait, we're taking this kid to Thingol, right?

Rest of TLA (chorus): Right.

Tano: Umm... anyone remember that he hates us, 'cause of the whole Beren/Morauthien thing? So why are we bringing the kid there?

Túrin: Hey, I may be eight, but you don't have to talk about me like I'm not here! *yells loudly*

Katt: You shut up too.

[Earniel]

Eärniel: We could just push him through Melian's girdle and then hightail out of there before Thingol gets wind of us. Someone is bound to come along, find the kid and bring him to Thingol.

Túrin: I'm not a kid!

Eärniel: Whatever, honey. Just be silent and let the big people talk.

Tano: But how will they know it's Túrin if we push him through the girdle and run off?

Eärniel: We'll pin a little note on him with the explanation?

Willow: That could work.....

Katt: We're not even getting paid for this, are we?

Ren: Nope, unless you want to go inside and discuss wages with Morwen.

*The TLA look from the silent house to Túrin and then back to eachother.*

Katt: I'd say we take our changes with the girdle.

Eärniel: Point taken, let's go.

*And so the TLA start their carrier as nannies to little Túrin.*

Katt: Oh, just you shut up as well.

[Finrod Felagund]

Finrod: Y'know, Thingol DOESN'T hate me!

TLA: Hmmm...

[Count Comfect]

*And so Finrod was drafted to deliver Turin himself*

Finrod: Hey, that wasn't what I meant!

TLA: So? It's what the rest of us meant.

Turin: Oooh, fun, argument!

Katt: What did I say about shutting up?

[Earniel]

*And so it was that -when they finally arrived in Doriath - at the door of Menegroth the sound of a door bell and then the sound of many feet, running away very fast, could be heard. When the confused doorkeeper opened the door, he saw only Finrod and Túrin standing before the door.*

Doorkeeper: Funny, I could have sworn I heard more people at the door just a few moments ago....

Finrod: Er, must have been an echo... Anyway, could you bring us to King?

Doorkeeper: *points over shoulder* Take the first corridor left, then the third on the right, cross the hallway, take the stairs two stories up, turn left, take the fifth corridor on your left, pass the three funny looking selfportraits of Melian, take the staircase down to the bottem, go through the garden, take the second on the right, turn left, right, left, left, left, right, and you're in the kitchen.

Finrod: Er, is Thingol in the kitchen?

Doorkeeper: Oh, you want the king then? Why didn't you say so immediatly, he's in the throne room, the big door to the left.

Finrod:*confused* I thought I has asked for the king the first time around.... *walks with Túrin to the throne room*

Túrin: That doorkeeper is as weird as your friends.

Finrod: Didn't we tell you to shut up?

Thingol: *looks up from reading the Menegroth Gazette* Yes, what is it this time?

Finrod:I've brought you Túrin, son of Húrin, by request of Morwen, lady of Dor-Lómin. She's run into some trouble with the immigrants in her lands and wonders whether she could bother you with looking after her son and heir of Dor-Lómin. Incidentally that last bit was no request. And I'm obliged to tell you, should you refuse, you can jolly well explain it to Morwen yourself.

Thingol: *sighs* Is she that bad?

Finrod: She's downright scary.

Thingol: Fine, fine. Túrin, you said? Well lad, it seems I'm stuck with you for the following twenty years or so, so let's agree on some rules.

Túrin: *sighs* I think I can see what you're getting at. This would involve me shutting up a great deal, doesn't it?

Thingol: *pats Túrin on the head* Smart kid. They do learn fast.

*And thus began Túrin's life in Menegroth on the reluctant fostership of King Thingol.*

[Willow Oran]

*And Turin grew quickly, into a young man with many friends and a bad temper. He lived happily in Menegroth until one day...*

Saeros: *running up and tagging Turin on the shoulder* Tag! You're IT! Betcha' can't catch me!

Turin: Impudent elf! Die!!!!!

*Saeros runs, Turin chases, tradegy strikes*

Saeros: *Runs off a cliff*

Turin: Oops....

[Count Comfect]

Turin: *mental review of past 30 seconds* "Impudent elf! Die!!!!!" Hmm... maybe I should just have shut up instead....

Mablung: *appearing* What just happened here? I think you need to tell me and Thingo... hey, where'd he go?

*for Turin was nowhere to be seen*

Mablung: Thanks, I could tell that myself.

*And Turin fled, which was odd behavior, as he was still It.*

[Earniel]

*So Mablung has no option than telling the news to Thingol himself.*

Thingol: Yes, what is it now? If you're bringing me another fosterchild then I'll...

Mablung: No, Lord, it's still about your first fosterchild.

Thingol: And only I may hope, as if my own daughter hadn't given me trouble enough already... Now, what did he do now?

Mablung: He shut up Saeros.

Thingol: Well, that isn't that bad. That Elf does go on and on...

Mablung: Er... no, Lord. Túrin shut up Saeros for good.

Thingol: Amazing! How on earth did he manage that?

Mablung: He killed him.

Thingol: Oh.

Mablung: And now he's run off.

Thingol: Oh.

Mablung: And now we'll never be able to play Tag again since Túrin was It.

Thingol: Oh.

Mablung: Yes, you've said that before.

Thingol: Oh, did I? Now what am I supposed to do again?

Mablung: Saeros was your kin, lord, shouldn't you be supposed to speak judgement over Túrin? You know, with you being king and all...

Thingol: Yes, I suppose so... So Túrin killed Saeros, didn't he. Well then, I suppose it was all done in the spirit of the Tag game. Yes, these youngsters today.... So here's my judgement: let it be known throughout the realm that I forgive Túrin and want him to return to my court.

Mablung: Lord?

Thingol: Yes, Mablung?

Mablung: You really hated Saeros, didn't you Lord?

Thingol: Yes. He always tagged me back, the weasel.

[Count Comfect]

*And then Thingol sent for Beleg Strongbow*

Beleg: You sent for me, Lord?

Thingol: Yes, didn't you read the narration? Anyway, I have pardoned Túrin, and I want to get him to come back, especially since he's it. So I give you your mission: you must go find Túrin and remind him that he is It and must tag one of us, yourself if necessary. This will make him come back.

*And Beleg sought out Túrin*

[Earniel]

*And on his search for Túrin Beleg suddenly ran into a group of masked people, oddly enough most of them sounded female.*

masked person#1: Are you the one looking for Túrin?

Beleg: *carefully* Who wants to know?

masked person#2: We.

Beleg: Why?

masked person#3: We know where he is, he sort of joined a gang of outlaws. He even taught them the tag-game.

masked person#4: Anyway, we want to join them too.

Beleg: Why?

masked person#1: I dunno. It seemed a good idea at the time.

masked person#5: I suppose it's the life of pillage, maim, burn and stuff that attracks us. Arr...

masked person#6: *whispers* No Tano, that's another game...

masked person#5: *whispers* Oh yeah, sorry.

masked person#2: And this way we can keep an eye on Túrin, see that his life goes the way it's supposed to, you know; killing his best friend, marrying his sister.... Oh, did I say that out loud?

Beleg: *looks confused* What?

masked person#6: *hits and shuts up masked person#2* Eärniel! We agreed we wouldn't tell anyone!

masked person#2: Hey, you broke my cover, Maggie! I thought he wasn't to know we were TLmgff.... *is tied and gagged by exasperated other masked persons*

masked person#1: *to Beleg* So, care to join us and look for Túrin?

Beleg: You're all criminally insane, aren't you?

masked person#3: Not all criminally insane, that's too flattering. But we're making progress, though.

Beleg: Works for me, let's go.

*And thus Beleg found himself in the company of the not-so-cleverly-disguised TLA that took him to Túrin's hidingplace. Oops did I say that out loud too? Oh well, that's my job, I'm the narrator.*

[Christiana]

*masked person #8trips over her long cloak*
"DRAT! I told Katt to order smaller sizes. But no, we cant be seen for who we are, not since that whole Morautian thingermabob..."

Beleg: you knew Morauthien?

Masked person #7:*hisses*shut UP Christiana!

#8: you arent supposed to say my name!

Beleg: hey, Thingol is always going on about some Christiana who ruined his ceiling decor"

#8: uhoh

[Count Comfect]

*And the group searched. And searched. And searched*

Masked Person 5: My foot!

MP5: What did you do now?

MP5: I hurt myself....

MP4: Tano!!! Why do you always do that?

MP5: Don't say my name!

Beleg: Oy.

*And bickered too, of course. But then there came a noise*

Túrin: hey, keep it down, willya!

Beleg: Túrin!!

Túrin: keep it down

Beleg: Why should I, Túrin? I'm glad to see you, last I heard you were playing tag with outlaws.

Túrin: I was, but we moved on to hide and seek. Now shut up! Hey, it feels good to tell someone else to do that! And besides, my band renamed me... I am now Countúrin.

Beleg: I see

TLA: *finally catching on* Oh,
HI TURIN!!!

[Willow Oran]

Counturin: Argh!

Beleg: You know these people?

Maskedperson#6: Know? No of course he doesn't know us. We only just met.

Counturin: I knew it! I knew you'd come back to make trouble! Outlaws! Heeeelllp!!!!!!!

TLA: Oh oh...

[Finrod Felagund]

Finrod: Hey, don't do that precioussss...
Counturin: ???
Finrod: Ummm, that was weird...whatever...

[Count Comfect]

Countúrin: Hey, OUTLAWS!!!!

Outlaws: Yes?

Countúrin: Tie up these intruders?

Outlaws: *with much grumbling* Does this mean hide and seek is over?

Countúrin: YES.

*The outlaws try to tie up Beleg and the TLA and after a few moments find themselves all tied up with each other*

Beleg: Ah, now we can talk.

[Earniel]

MP#5: Interesting customs you Elves have, you tie people up to talk?

Beleg: Weeell, it tends to stop them from running away when we want to get wordy, so it can be quite usefull...

Random Outlaw: Is this a new game? Because if so, could you explain the rules, like before we start?

MP#4: Yes, here are the rules: this is where you shut up and we talk to Countúrin.

Countúrin: You want to talk? Really? Hey, why didn't you say so before? Most of the time people just tell me to shut up.

MP#2: *quickly* Oh, we would never tell anyone to shut up!

MP#6: Shut up, Eärniel.

Beleg: Well then, Countúrin, you'll come back with us to Doriath? Thingol isn't mad at you for shutting up Saeros.

Countúrin: Nah, I don't need Thingol's pardon. In fact, I'm quite enjoying myself with my own private gang....

Beleg: Oh.

[Count Comfect]

Countúrin: But if you want to TALK, well, I'm always open... there are so many things I haven't ever been able to say, like, who were those people who brought me to Thingmphrg...

Beleg: Um.... MP#2, why is your hand over Countúrin's mouth?

MP#2: Err... no reason. But it's going to stay there anyway.

Beleg: OK then. Well, Countúrin, I'm sorry you don't want to come and play with us, but if you ever do, you know where to find me: go to Dimbar. We're getting together a big game of "Kill lots and lots of Orcs."

Countúrin: *pulling MP#2's hand away* Great! But I don't feel like playing that game. So if you ever feel like hide and seek or tag, come see me at oh, I don't know *spins around randomly, then points at* Amon Rudh.

[Arcala]

MP#9: What? Amon what? Where?

MP#5: Right THERE, Ar-...er, MP#9!

MP#9: Well, no need to lose your temper, I was just wondering!

MP#5: *sigh*

MP#9: Ow, the sun's in my eyes!

TLA: *sigh*