News from Bree: The Elvenbowl
by Vison
News from Bree:
Sunday saw the annual Elvenbowl, where Elves from various Elven
kingdoms gather together for what has been called “The Superbowl of
Elvenhood”. Non-Elves are strictly barred, but my Dear Readers will not
be surprised to learn that Your Intrepid Reporter snuck in.
Rumours have, for years, circulated about the “goings on” at the
Elvenbowl. Tales of fist-fights between Rival Bards, whispers of
collusion between various members of The Wise, blurry photographs of
some sort of weird activity --- for some time the Outer World has
longed, with palpitating hearts, to know What Really Happens.
Here’s the scoop: Not Much.
My cara sposo, the Former Dark Lord, retains enough of his old Power to
play the odd trick and I persuaded him to render me invisible. No Ring
is needed, contrary to popular belief, although certainly the loss of
that dadblasted Ring has rather clipped his magical wings. He muttered
some Words of Power over me, and ended with this rather snotty
benediction, “There! I hope you’re happy! Don’t come whining to me if
it all goes wrong.”
Readers, the invisibility spell held good and I was never seen nor
suspected. For three dreary days I wandered at will through the halls
of the House of Elrond Halfelven. I heard harps twanging endlessly. I
heard voices raised --- oh, so high -- in songs. I saw Elven bodies
twisted into mind-bending poses as the Quendi, the Teleri, the
Noldor…..oh, you know, the whole pack and lot of the various races of
Elves……as they danced, cavorting about in the lawns and meadows and
behind waterfalls.
Since I was Unseen, I heard plenty. The backbiting! The snarky
comments! The mean-spirited jostling and pushing in crowded dressing
rooms! The snogging in the bushes!
It came down to the last hours. The judges were deadlocked, unable to
name any winner. The Noldor had not defeated the Sindarin team, the
Teleri were NOT a distant third. One contest remained, in which a duet
from each team was to perform, singing and dancing.
Four acts completed, then five. The last duo bopped onto the stage and
the band struck up a tune livelier than most. A stir swept the
audience. Elves looked askance at each other and back at the stage. No
Elf had ever…….my word! The crowd leapt to its collective feet, a roar
of shock and outrage swelled to the far hills and the very heavens.
Why didn’t I have my camera with me? “Rats,” I thought. “Really big rats.”
I will not name the Branch of Elvendom that Offended. What price to
win? What depth to descend to? What costume-maker? Did that glittery
thing peel off the shockingly exposed body part? Was it, as some
naïve audience members assert, an accident?
There are some questions even this Reporter cannot answer.
But I can tell you this. The Elvenbowl will never be the same. Why, the
old Event is made Anew, and plans are underway for additional contests
to be added next year. Elrond is shopping for a New Robe, and Galadriel
is determined that she will show that “The Old Grey Mare IS What She
Used To Be”.
Celeborn was unavailable for comment, but he was seen in close
conversation with Feanor, that old Elven Artificer. Who knows what will
come of it?
I was “re-visibled” with little trouble, and Saurie was pretty glad to
see me. He was most interested in what I had to tell him, and plans to
attend the Elvenbowl next year. Next time, I’m taking a video camera, I
can tell you that.
Until then, Dear Readers, may your days be joyous under the Shining Sun.
