Return from the Void ~Míriel

Chapter 6 ~Of Tummy-aches and Long Journeys

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            Sauron adjusted himself for the hundredth time.  Looking up, he noticed with disgust that Minas Tirith was no closer than it had been the last time he had looked, which was approximately 2.93 seconds ago.

            “Confound you, Saruman,” he said to the pony.  “Could you not move faster?”

            An exasperated sigh came from beneath him.  “Maybe I could if you weren’t so large!”

            “Maybe if you weren’t so large!” Sauron retorted.  “Might I remind you whose name is ‘Little Barrel?’”

            “Perhaps you could have walked like Melkor and Omar.”

            Sauron squinted.  In the distance, he could see two black specks resembling their companions.

            “My stamina is not what it was,” he said loftily, “And you, being a pony, should be able to carry me--”

            “I’ve had a traumatizing time of it as it is!  Do you know how terrible it was to be with all the other horses on the ferry?  They laughed at me!  They laughed at my size, although they called me ‘pretty boy’, but oh!  The horror!”

            Sauron rolled his eyes.  “At least you weren’t up there with hydro-phobic Melkor.  I thought he would kill the ferryman for not flying across the river.”

            Saruman snickered at the memory of Melkor screaming at the ferryman; “Faster, you idiot!  Faster!”

            And the ferryman’s response:  “What do you want me to do, man, fly?”

            And finally, Melkor’s answer:  “Yes!”

            It was no small wonder that the ferryman had practically thrown them off the boat when they reached the opposite shore.

            Sauron sighed.  “If only we could fly to Gondor.” He said wistfully.

            “If only I had a nice little boy to feed me an apple.”  Saruman replied.

            Far ahead, if one listened carefully, Melkor could be heard saying, “If only I was a dark and terrible lord again!  Then I would crush Gondor, take power, and conquer Arda!”

            And at last, the thoughts of Omar.  “What in the name of flying Mumakils have I gotten myself into?”

~~~

            Arwen sighed and ran her fingers through her hair.  At least, that’s what she was attempting to do when they snagged on a tangle.

            “Oh, horrors,” she thought, “What else can go wrong this day?”

            This day had been one of utter frustration.  After having been rudely awoken at some unearthly hour by Eldarion, who had soiled himself, then wished to sleep with his mother and father, (Which, while letting him sleep blissfully, his mother and father were unable to achieve any rest) she had been running herself ragged trying to please him.

            “‘Tisn’t his fault though.  Poor little dear!  No child should have to suffer such an awful thing!”

            Arwen snuggled her son closely to her.  Poor darling, having a tummy-ache and all.

            She sighed, thinking wistfully of the day that she and her husband had planned.  He had asked her to attend to the throne with him today, helping him deal out justice.  But, alas, as soon as they discussed it, Eldarion had been struck with this horrid malady.

            “Mommy?” her child whispered weakly.

            “Yes, darling?”

            “I’m hungry.”

            “But I thought your tummy was hurting, love.”

            “Yes, but it’s hungry.” Eldarion explained.

            Arwen wondered at this.  Ah, well.  She truly knew nothing of tummy-aches, and had passed Eldarion’s off as indigestion.  Perhaps something to eat might help. 

            “What do you desire, dear?”

            Eldarion’s face scrunched up as he thought.  “Cake?” he asked hopefully.

            “But would the sugar not hurt your tummy more?”

            “No.”

            Arwen sighed.  “I hope the cake doesn’t hurt him more,” she fretted.  “I’ll get you some plain white cake.  I don’t think that the other kinds would be good for you.”

            She stood and rang the bell for the maid.  Lovingly glancing at her little boy, who looked so much like Aragorn, with his dark hair that fell so attractively into his lovely grey eyes; his smile, set so perfectly in his darling chubby cheeks; and even his little high voice; she couldn’t help but thank the Valar for this life she had chosen.

            “If anything ever happened to Eldarion, I know not what I would do.  I would give my very life for this child.”

~~~

            “Omar!”

            Omar cringed at the sound of Melkor’s grating voice calling to him—again.

            “What does this man want now?”

            “How much longer until we reach Mirin Tigris?”

            Omar clenched his teeth in an attempt to remain calm.  “At least a half of an hour, milord.  And the city’s name is Minas Tirith.”

            “Oh.  Well, I certainly hope Lieutenant Salir and Little Barrel manage to catch up.”

            Omar sighed.  “Small chances of that happening.”  He had been running with Lord Melki for over an hour now.  The man had a ridiculous amount of stamina.

            This was not going the way that Omar had planned.  He had hoped that with the Lord Melki, they would slip into Gondor, kill the king, and rule the world.  But no, that stupid Lieutenant Salir decided to kidnap the prince.  Omar could not see what good that would do.  “Just kill the lot of them, I say.”

            He sighed.  “I dearly hope this plan works.  That will show all the people of Harad, including Miriam.  That will teach her to scorn me!”  Omar entertained the thought of Miriam begging for him to give her a second chance.

            “She said that I was mad with power and conquest.  Well!  This will teach her exactly what conquest will get you—power!”

            “Finally!”

            Omar was brought forth from his revere by the voice of the Lieutenant. 

            “It’s about time!”  Melki grumbled.

            “I’m sorry, my lord,” Salir said.

            Melki sighed.  “I suppose it matters not.  You are here now, at any rate.”

            “And we have arrived,” Omar said.

            And so they had.  Towering above them was the lovely white city of Minas Tirith.

            They stood silent and awestruck.  Then Melki said

            “Now what?”

~~~

Author’s notes:  Thank you to my three reviewers!  You were very encouraging with your comments!  I hope this chapter meets the satisfaction of all.

In the next chapter, it will hopefully be a bit longer, perhaps a bit darker, and the story should begin to pick up nicely.

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