Day 71 of Exile
By Mahal what a strange place I found! I was a tad bit lost I must admit, trotting beneath the pines and firs of The Trollshaws. One wrong turn and suddenly I was entering the elven lair known as Rivendell. Feeling really out of place I slowly walked toward a big house. Then I heard singing, a merry tune it was. It was sung in a strange language, but as I came closer the singers shifted into westron. Believe it or not, but perched up in the trees the elves were singing about ME. It went something like this:
”O! Who are you there?
A dwarf with no flair?
A renegade I declare!
The river is flowing!
O! tra-la-la-lally
here down in the valley!
O! Where are you going?
With looks so dour,
at this late hour.
What was your paths?
so bereft of baths,
that led to the valley
ha! ha!
Enter, seeker of ale
For you will surely fail
We welcome you to dine
Make do you must with wine
ha! ha! *)
What a bunch of fairies! And they weren't kidding with that last line. Later at dinner in this ”Hall of Fire”, a name that promised more than a few cooking fires, this turned out to be true. They served only wine. I drank my little beer keg dry two days journey east of the bridge. From then on it was plain, tasteless and boring water. I had hoped to find at least one Inn along the road that would serve a frothy golden brew, but alas...water and more water. And now this wine, dry and sour but with sufficient punch to create that warm sensation inside. This led to a rather embarrassing episode though.
As a dwarf, I am accustomed to a certain party style, which is perfectly suited when among other dwarves. I drank too much of course. I don't mind a good stupor but the elves weren't so keen on having a drunk dwarf napping in their finest dining hall during breakfast. Well I sorted it out afterwards. Now I get drunk outside, like the rest of the elves. Revelling they call it...
((Image from http://musingsatthegrayhavens.blogspot.com))
*) adapted and inspired by the events in "The Hobbit" , chapter 3 "A short rest", by JRR Tolkien
