The 24 Days of Christmas Challenge

Day 16: Nine Nervous Nazgûl

To the tune of God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen
(Merry loves that his name is in so many Christmas songs, carols, odes, things!)

In Gondor there are gentlemen
Arrayed as Knights in glory
In the Shire there are Halflings
Who love a good night story.
In Rohan there are Rohirrim
Who love their horses more – y
And – all come to Crickhollow for a bath, for a bath
And – all come to Crickhollow for a bath.
(‘bout time some would say of a certain Ranger)

In Lothlorien the Elves lay low
They never pass their borders.
In Rivendell Lord Elrond’s folks
Tell tales of Mordor’s
Fell beasts, ringwraiths, and wraiths on wings
All kinds of foul, stinking Lord – ors
And – Galadriel she brings her pitcher full, pitcher full
And – Galadriel she brings her pitcher full.

In the Barrow-downs the barrow wights
Have all conspired to kill us.
And Prince Imrahil of Dol Amroth
Is not above a bit of fuss
He wants the throne, he needs the throne
Though Denethor his name will cuss
And – fire and water do not mix, do not mix
And – fire and water do not mix

Eru rest ye merry gentlemen
And all the Elves together
And Hobbits too – must not forget
That through all kinds of weather
Nine nervous Nazgûl do what they can
To make the Dark Lord happy.
Including taking baths with anything nasty, anything nasty.
Including taking baths with anything nasty.

(Left out a character
Or two or three or four – forgive me!
Ents – walking tall - I’ve missed the lot
Oh and Dwarves – I’m very sorry
Beornings, Maier, Wild Men,
Orcs – spiders – Urak-hai –
But I’ll drop down dead before I say anything about that Gollum-y creature, Gollum-y creature)
Yes, I’ll drop down dead before I say anything about that Gollum.)

- Agape4Rivendell

In the Library...

Nine nervous Nazgûl stood hesitantly before the librarian's desk, a charred and mouldering tome laying before them.

"We're sorry...." whispered the first one, "we really thought it had been returned...."

The librarian pushed her glasses up on her nose and took a long look at the offendingly overdue item. "Where has this been? Didn't your mothers ever teach you to wrap your books in a bag before going out in the rain? Or was it read in the bathtub, perhaps? For shame! And what are these marks? Reading too near the fire?"

"Errr....something like that," dithered the second one. "We lent it to a, er, friend...."

"You should never lend out your library books, they don't belong to you," she said with a stern shake of her head that made her tight bun of hair bob from side to side. "Next time, you need to return it and let them check it out themselves."

"But, he can't..." said the third.

"Why not? Hasn't he a library card?"

"No, he hasn't any... hands..."

She flipped through a small stack of cards. "This was checked out in the last Age - I'm afraid I'll have to charge you not only for it being overdue, but for the damage to the book. That will be ten golden rings, please."

"Uh....what did you say? Rings?"

"Ten golden rings. All currency was converted to the Golden Ring standard fifty years ago. You should know that."

"But, we only have nine...." they hoarsely chorused together.

"Well, you'll just have to come back when you have enough to pay your fine. I can't let you check out anything else until then, I'm sorry."

"Not even...." they chorused, each pointing to a different murder mystery on the nearby rack of New Arrivals.

"No, not even that. Good-day."

- Primula

It was with clenched teeth that I arrived at the 5th Bi-Annual Gathering of Elves and Nameless Dwarves (BAGEND), which this year had been opened to fans of other characters due to a shrinkage of the Dwarf population.

I was thus only mildly surprised to see an overweight man in a skin-tight white suit standing by the buffet table. He was wearing dark sunglasses, and across his chest in gold sequines was embroided the words “The King”, however his namebadge just said Aragorn. As he rapidly devoured a cream cake I could see he was actually in conversation with another fan.

Standing not far from Aragorn was a tall, lithe man wearing a long blonde wig. The hair reached down to his shoulders, but protuding spectacularly from the sides of his head were two dull brown plastic Spock-ears. They jiggled and bounced as he talked, although (possibly from the industrial strength glue used in their application) they seemed to defy the laws of gravity and not fall off. His namebadge was even more curious, as you could tell that originally it said Glorfindel, but that had been scribbled out and underneath was written Arwen.

Leaving the Royal couple, I saw something quite unusal. In the middle of the dancefloor was a small, robust woman outfitted in an operatic Viking costume. Beneath her deep-brown cloak was a brazen metal breastplate that was clinging on to her sides for dear life. Unmistakably on top of her head was a tall, round helmet with two large horns extending from each side, which had hidden underneath a bundle of bright red hair tied up in a ponytail that reached almost to the floor. Unsurprisingly, her namebadge displayed Gimli.

Also wiggling on the dancefloor was another tall, thin man (although they seemed to be in short supply). In a strange counterpoint to Gimli he wore a black pirate hat, and his long blonde hair was instead tied up in two pigtails. The most unusual thing about this was that the hair was suspended in two big U-shapes on either side of his head. The namebadge of Legolas was almost a forgone conclusion.

It was then that I noticed the three people that were sitting at a table in the corner. Upon further examination though, I discovered that they weren’t sitting but kneeling, well all except for one who was passed out on the floor under the table. A small pile of bottles had built up around him, and although I couldn’t see a namebadge it didn’t take a genius to guess that he was Merry.

The two “standing” fans were also an eclectic pair. One was covered from head to toe (well, knee) in small grey feathers. They were even stuck in his hair and made him look like an enormous waddling snowball… with a beak. The namebadge pined to his chest suddenly made everything a little clearer (although that didn't really help matters much) as I read Peregrine.

His companion was attired slightly less dramatically, although when he turned to face me I had to rexamine that description. For attached to his glasses were a pair of huge blue paper eyes. They extended beyond his head but gave him this menacing glare as the eyes followed you round the room in a cross-eyed hypnotic trance. However his choice of accessories was also quite bizzarre. As round his neck on a piece of string was a large ring doughnut, and from the small bite marks in the sides I could tell that this fan hadn’t made it to the buffet yet. The namebdage of Frodo almost made me laugh out loud until I was caught in the glare of the big eyes…

The next fan I found seemed slightly out of place for this convention. Sitting at a table in the middle of the hall was a large man, dressed in a bright pink floral dress that seemed a little stretched. He held aloft a small pink umbrella, and over one shoulder he had a matching handbag. I could tell it was a man by the thick black moustache that adorned his upperlip, despite his deep-voiced protestations that “I ain’t no bloke, no,” to everyone that looked his way. I was then (almost) grateful to see his namebadge called him Éowyn, but immediately felt sorry for any Faramirs in the sudience.

The last person of note made a late entrance, however her costume definitely provoked confused glances from the gathered fans. A women dressed in a white leotard sauntered into the hall, emblazoned down her front from her neck to her toes was a thick black line. Then ontop of her head was suspended a large black circle. As no namebdage was evident, I discreetly asked her who she was suppose to be and to my astonishment she only replied “I see you.” It was only the nine nervous Nazgûl, dressed in floor-length white sheets and following her like an honour guard that seemed the most normal.

A truly strange mixture of people these fans are. And I’m sure the next convention will be just as bizarre.
- Laiquendi