WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH

[deadgirlslikeme]

A door opens, and suddenly the sound of a baby wailing echoes across the nearby chunk of the Nexus. A bleary-eyed Victor Van Dort steps through, bouncing said wailing baby in his arms. "It's okay, it's okay. . .look, we're -- um." He blinks a few times as he registers where he is. "This isn't. . .oh, dear, how did I manage to choose the wrong door?" He goes to step back through --

Then stops, shakes his head, and proceeds to the nearest safe-looking bit of furniture, still cradling his son. "No. Perhaps someone can help here. At least, Alice and the others will get some decent sleep for a change. . ." He looks up, an exhausted man at the end of his rope. "Is there anyone around who's had at least one child and might know why they sometimes just start crying in the middle of the night and won't stop no matter what you do?"

Comments

[lastest_ringbearer]

No, we don't think ssso. Is it nice?

[deadgirlslikeme]

Well, I think it is. It's an instrument for making music -- a big box with strings in, attached to a bunch of keys. You press the keys, and little hammers in the box hit the strings for different notes. I'd, um, try to demonstrate more, but. . . [holds up the baby, still sucking away]

[lastest_ringbearer]

A good reassson not to. Praps another time, yesss?

[deadgirlslikeme]

Perhaps, yes. I found a piano here before, so maybe I can do so again.

[Chester loses interest in his fingers and makes a few tentative whimpering sounds] Oh no no, please. . . [Victor starts panic-humming the first thing that comes to mind -- the beginning of Beethoven's Fifth Symphony. Yes, not exactly a lullaby, but he's frazzled and just wants to keep this kid quiet.]

[lastest_ringbearer]

Husssh, child of Men. You live in far too kind a world for you to cry ssso much.

[deadgirlslikeme]

[Chester's response to this -- is a little baby laugh, wiggling in Victor's grip. Victor relaxes some, adjusting his hold] He's right, you know. You needn't cry nearly so much. Especially at night. . .I didn't introduce myself properly, did I? Victor -- and this little fellow is Chester.

[lastest_ringbearer]

Good to meet you, my loves.

[deadgirlslikeme]

Good to meet you as well. It's nice to talk to someone outside my immediate family again. I haven't had much of a chance to get out lately. [he gives Chester a mocking frown, which he burbles at] Babies take a lot of work.

[lastest_ringbearer]

We think it lookses hard jussst to keep them from wandering off. Never a good thing, to go wandering. You never know where you might end up.

[deadgirlslikeme]

Oh, he's too young to go wandering much yet, fortunately. He's still getting the hang of just moving around in general. Though Alice and I are already trying to think ahead to that time. . .you're right, we don't know where he might end up, and. . .well. It's a tiny bit terrifying how dangerous even a nice house can be to a baby.

[lastest_ringbearer]

At leassst you can keep him in that house. If you can keep him out of here anyway. Then . . . well. Cold be heart and hand and bone/Cold be travelers far from home/Never wake from ssstony bed/'Til Sun has failed and Moon is dead. Too many doorses here go to sssuch places, yesss!

[deadgirlslikeme]

[Victor pulls Chester a little closer as Smeagol recites the rhyme, gently bouncing him in lieu of having a tie to pull] Um -- was that part of your "fishes" poem? I can see why it wouldn't suit as a lullaby in that case. . . And yes, I know there's a lot of dangerous doors here. Me and mine have been lucky so far, but Chester -- well, he's not coming here without supervision for a LONG time. Goodness, he wouldn't even be here tonight, except I was so bloody tired I accidentally stepped through the wrong door.

[lastest_ringbearer]

No no, the fish poemses be a bit different. Alive without breath, cold as death . . .

Walking through the wrong door sounds bad, it does. Worse from thisss side, mind. With our luck we'd be back in Mordor somewhere, yes we would!

[deadgirlslikeme]

Oh. Still rather dark to be turned into a children's song. [though Chester, for his part, seems unaffected by all this, just enjoying the bouncing]

Well, considering it led to me finding out how to best soothe my son, I'd consider it the right door now. . .Mordor? [he makes a face] Goodness, even the name sounds unpleasant. . .so that's where you fell from?

[lastest_ringbearer]

We're not good at remembering good thingses. Our world be losing itsss beauty bit by bit, they sssay, although we think that might not be ssso bad. Light still hurts poor Smeagol, so it does.

Yess. We've been to the Dead Marshes before the Black Gate, and up the stairses to Cirith Ungol. We've been across the Plateau of Gorgoroth and was once taken captive in Barad-Dur itself. We fell at Sauron's forge of old; Sammath Naur, in the mountain Orodruin.

[deadgirlslikeme]

Does it? I'm sorry to hear that. . .and about your world losing its beauty. What a terrible thing to happen to one's home. Not that I would really know, Burtsonville was always a dull and gray place. . .though the forest outside it was nice.

[Victor tilts his head at the recounting Smeagol gives of the place names] It all sounds so -- mean. [he shakes his head, still holding Chester tight -- he'd have better words if he weren't so sleep-deprived] Like it's where all the nastiness in your world lives.

[lastest_ringbearer]

When we was young, long ago and long, our curiosity had usss reading all the old tales, yesss. The world wasss fair in Durin's day. That dwarf in Moria sssaid ssso.

The lassst of the great old evilses dwelt there. I met that evil face to face, one of few to sssee him and live in the third age of the world.

[deadgirlslikeme]

[he smiles a little] I see. . .I read a lot of books like that myself when I was small. Wanted to make pets of dragons and go on grand adventures in a world where magic worked.

[that makes him suck in a breath, instinctively clutching Chester to his chest] Oh my. . .that must have been terrifying.

[lastest_ringbearer]

Petsss? Of dragonses? Arda hasss a few, though they be a dying breed, and only the one that made them dared control them. We read the bookses, we know of great Ancalagon who broke three mountainsss when he fell.

We felt the touch of hisss Black Hand and bear the marks ssstill, yesss. But we knew him long ere we met. We held hisss Precious, where he had placed hisss power, for years uncounted under ssstone. Found it fishing, our cousssin and we. It--it wasss our birthday present. *His eyes flick to the child. Whatever hobbitness is starting to return in the Nexus doesn't want to say what happened on that birthday long ago in front of the baby, and he hates thinking about it in any case.* We were warped by that Black Hand half a millennium before we met. We hateses it!

[deadgirlslikeme]

I-I think we were reading about rather different sorts of dragons, then. Or maybe we weren't, and I always just imagined them as friendlier than they really are. [after a pause, he admits in a small voice] I was also b-bullied as a child, and the idea of a big m-monster who looked after me and t-took care of the bullies was -- a-appealing.

[Chester's not really old enough to understand, but the attempt at discretion is appreciated in any case. Victor grimaces in sympathy] Oh dear, that's -- wait. Half a -- that's 500 years, isn't it? Goodness me, how old are you? [Smeagol doesn't exactly look young, granted, but Victor didn't take him for that old!]

[lastest_ringbearer]

Yesss, I imagine it wasss. *A six-toothed smile.* We never were bullied, not before the Precious came and Grandmother threw usss out. We'd remember if we were, the bad thingsss are easier that way. Probably the Ring'sss fault, oh yesss!

We isss 500 and 80 and 9, we think. Birth year wasss 2430 of the Third Age of the Years of the Sssun. *He seems proud that he remembered all that, which to be fair is hard even when you're not 589.* Life was not kind. Fate was not kind. All our long life in misery wasss for the greater bedamned good, but what help wasss that to usss? We ssshould have lived a little time in peace. Precious wouldn't let usss, and we loved it. We wish we hadn't. We wish we didn't, never!

[deadgirlslikeme]

Well, I'm glad to hear that. It's -- not fun, being bullied. And I wouldn't be surprised if an artifact of evil made remembering the bad things easier, but. . .well, the painful memories tend to be some of the clearest for me too. [he smiles at Chester, who is leaning against his chest now with droopy eyes] At least I have some beautiful memories to balance them out.

[his eyes widen as Smeagol gives his age] Goodness me. . . [he worries his lower lip] So long under that thing's spell? I'm so sorry. That -- even if it was for the greater good, you're right, it's not fair at all. You deserved better.

[lastest_ringbearer]

Pain giveses lesssons we need. Thusss we remember pain. But the Preciousss helped it along, we think.

At the very end we felt the breath of Eru. We knew the Enemy would eat the world if he got hisss Ring again, and his Eye had finally found it. The Precious we ssso loved cursed us to never touch it again lest we fall into the very Cracks of Doom. We were ssso tired. Smeagol's eyes be clearing now that Precious melted, we sssee how we were always where Fate needed usss to be. Where it needed me to be.

[deadgirlslikeme]

[he frowns] Depressing way to look at things. . .but I can't deny it's true. I learned to be more careful around the stove by burning myself on it. And I wouldn't expect anything else from something made by the great evil of your world.

So if you hadn't been there, hadn't made sure the Enemy didn't find his Ring. . .then your whole world would have. . . [Victor would offer a comforting pat if his hands weren't currently filled with baby] Sounds like you were very important to your world, in the end. But it's still a sad fate for you personally.

[lastest_ringbearer]

We--I--we are why our world will not belong to him. Smeagol isss why. We didn't mean to be heroeses, but we didn't mean to be bad either. We wisssh I'd never got it, or never had to let go.