A Lamborghini Diablo pulled up to the red carpet, but it was not speeding as one would expect from a car of its caliber. Not to say that it had not been speeding up until that point, nay, its driver had been putting the proverbial petal to the magnificent metal in order to get to the party in some semblance of time. She knew she was late, but what is one to do when one sleeps till 11 in the morning? It was her day off of work, and the fact that there was a party had completely slipped her mind.

Now, the undeniably cool car crawled to a stop, nearly out of gas and in dire need of new tires. The front door opened, and out stepped the aforementioned driver herself. Standing at 5’6” in height, she made a tolerably attractive figure (so other have said, mind you, I make no claims). She was clad in a faded denim skirt, which ended just about her knees, and a white tank top under a denim jacket matching her skirt. Her feet were shod in sandals. Yes, her accoutrements were less than formal, but she was here to party, not promenade.

Now let me pause to tell you about her hair. It fell just past her shoulders, and was thick, wavy and silky. Its hue was a natural mix of light golden brown tinged with the slightest red hue, and as she shut the car door behind her, she smoothed her tresses down with unmistakable vanity. Yes, she was shamelessly vain about her hair, and had been known to react with vicious indignation when people asked if she dyed it. Her hazel eyes swept over the red carpet, noticing the Warg hair that lay in clumps all over. Drat, she thought, I was supposed to vacuum my house today. Oh well.

Now, before you die of absolute boredom, let me mention the last, and most interesting aspect of her appearance. Though her clothing was casual (yet chic) she wore an astoundingly gaudy necklace around her neck (as that is usually where one wears a necklace). Eighteen jaw-dropping diamonds were threaded on a mithril chain, and though there had been many other diamond-clad guests before her, none had matched the flashy fire of these diamonds. For it was indeed She of the Eighteen Diamonds who stood upon the hairy red carpet, thinking about the work she was supposed to be doing back home.

“Oh well,” she repeated out loud, and turned to open the back door of her Diablo. “We’re here!”

A small, round, fat, tubby, corpulent, obese, short, puny, diminutive, miniature, body fell out of the back seat. One sausage-like hand reached up and brushed away a graying mop of curly hair, and the middle-aged hobbit lady gasped, “I’m alive! Oh, sweet peas and ale, I’m alive! I thought it would never end! The speeding! The spinouts! The heinous music!”

“Hey,” Diamond objected, “Matchbox20 and 3 Doors Down rule, and they have numbers in their name, so don’t complain.”

Lousewort Chastitybelt stood up dizzily and looked around fearfully. “I want to go home!” she insisted.

“There’s someone here waiting to talk to you,” Diamond replied. “So waddle across this hairy carpet and find her, she’ll be wearing a breastplate.” She accompanied this directive with a shove, muttering, “Heinous music, indeed!”

Diamond then bent over (and the males in the area widened their eyes like the uncouth, bestial creatures they are) and picked a book up off the carpet, which had dropped out along with Lousewort. Dusting the Warg hair off her library copy of David Copperfield, she lamented the fact that it was due in a week and she was not yet halfway through it. She added this to the list of things she was neglecting to attend the party.

“Pimpiowyn, honey, aren’t you going to get out?” she asked gently, smiling fondly at the sweet and shy creature still sitting inside the car.

“There are so many people,” a high, piping voice chirped cutely.

“Come dear, they’ll all love you!” Diamond insisted. “And Vogonwë is somewhere around here, working with the dance troupe. If things get too intimidating, you can go over by him. Okay?”

“All right…” Pimpi agreed, and stepped out onto the still hirsute carpet. A collective gasp rippled through the area, as they looked upon Pimpiowyn Daughter of Éohorse, the only Half-Hobbit-Half-Human known to grace the Downs. Yet, to the untrained eye her Hobbit side was undetectable, as a recent incident with magic beans had caused her to reach 6’ in height. Therefore, she was a tall and slender Half-Halfing, and looked more like an Elf maiden despite having no Elven blood. Her hair put Diamond’s to shame—it was a long gorgeous mane of reddish golden curls that shone with the light of the Similars of Feeblenore. Her lithe frame was graced with an astoundingly beautiful black velvet dress with the most impractical and ridiculously stylish red sleeves. They draped along the ground (unfortunately picking up Warg hair in the process) and made for an all around stunningly stupendous attire.

Pimpi took a step forward, and tripped on her sleeves. She landed in a heap on the carpet, and Diamond, looking rather like a mother hen, quickly helped her back up.

“I’m such a klutz!” Pimpi lamented, tears forming on her rosy cheeks.

“It’s okay, Pimpi sweetheart,” Diamond assured her, and if people didn’t know better, they’d swear she sprouted feathers and started clucking. “Now, look over there! There’s the buffet table! Dragon’s meat and Balrog wings and Lembas cake, oh my!”

Seeing the resplendent food table, Pimpi picked up her skirts and flew across the carpet, her Hobbit side becoming readily apparent in the ravenous hunger that o’er spread her bonny countenance.

“Well,” Diamond said with smug satisfaction, “now for the mingling.”

The celebrations already clamouring on for several hours, a tall man appeared by the end of the red carpet. He came on foot, marks of tire on his face, though neatly dressed, his clothing all shades of grey, and sparks of irony in his eye. The Uruk guard stopped him:

-And what ye may be doing here?
-Well, I suppose I'm willing to enter
-And who yer may be, than?
-HerenIstarion must be the name
-Yer? Here? It can't be, yer never reach out of them Quotes and Books forums. And I hear him H-I even ain't coming there no more.
-Well, there are times, and I happen to be him H-I, as you name me. So let me in

That ringed true somehow. The Guard backed, and let the man through, who, entering the hall, immediately slipped to the bar, ordered the beer and quitely placed himself in the dark corner, unnoticed by the most of the crowd.
"It have to be a good show" thought the man and sipped at his beer

[ May 01, 2003: Message edited by: HerenIstarion ]

As the dwarf stands there, thinking and eating spicy hot balrog wings, he asks the other occupants of the table if they know when the Disco Danceoff is going to begin. with answers such as "don't know" and "Mrrrchh mrmrmr i'm eating!" he decides to leave it alone for a while, switching the subject, he says to the phantom; "sure was funny, that kick me sign.."

Suddenly, the entire hall is filled with horrible screams and schreeching as a flock of RABID FANGIRLS! swarm into the hall screaming the words Legolas, Mirkwood! while anyone of movie importance runs for cover, all but one..
Elrond! he sits at the bar, taking shot after shot of straight vodka.. Suddenly, Arafangwen yells He's not here!
and just as suddenly as they came, they left, leaving scared actors in their wake.
And amidst it all, Elrond sits there muttering My guestbook*Downs another shot*They took it from me*Sobs silently* Then the dwarf points out to the others the situation that Elrond happens to be in and asks if we should help him out

"Once more you are with Reesha Weathers, for Action in Arda Magazine.
Now I'm talking with none other than the Saucepan man! Hi Mr. Man."
"Hello, Miss Weathers. I would be delighted to answer your questions for your magazine."
"Okay then, How did chose such an inventive name?"
"Well, I didn't choose it as such. It just kind of stuck, on account of all these pots, pans and kettles. You can call me Saucepan for short, if you like. Everyone else does.

OOC: The Saucepan Man is a character from the Faraway Tree books by Enid Blyton, written for children. They are about a group of children who discover the Faraway Tree in the Enchanted Wood, which is populated by all kinds of strange folk. One of these is the Saucepan Man, a strange little fellow covered from head to foot in pans and kettles, with a saucepan for a hat."
"That's very interesting. And which is your favorite forum on the BDs?"
"Depending on my mood, I tend to spend most of my time in Books, Movies and the Quiz Room. But I always pop down to the Barrow-Downs forum, which is a nice, friendly place to be."
"Sounds like a good scramble. Who is your favorite administrator/moderator?"
"Estelyn Telcontar, for her kindness and tact in bringing order to the chaos of the Forums, although I find Sharku's ruthlessness amusing. And the Barrow-Wight himself, of course, for bringing us this great site in the first place."
"I agree. What is your favorite thing about the BD?"
"The sheer variety of wierd and wonderful people that haunt the place, all drawn together by a love for all-things Tolkien. In the short time that I have been here, my knowledge and appreciation of Tolkien's works has grown immeasurably."
"What is your favorite thing about Tolkien's books/movies?"

"The Books: I have always enjoyed the Hobbit and LotR since I first read them some 25 years ago. But recently, I read the Silmarillion and found the story of Turin Turambar amazing - such a tragic hero. And, at the moment, I am really enjoying reading the Hobbit to my young daughter and seeing the look of wonder on her face as the story unfolds.

The Films: It has to be the visualisation - the fantastic way that they bring ME to life in much the way I had imagined it all those years ago. Particular highlights for me, so far, have been the Shire, Moria, the Black Gate, Edoras and Helm's Deep. And the SFX are brilliant too, especially the Orcs, the Balrog and, of course, Gollum (although not those dreadful hyena-lemming hybrids that are supposed to be Wargs )."
"Thanks for your time Saucepan."
"I hope that you find my answers helpful."
"We'll be back later with more interviews!"

"Thank you, Gimli" said The Phantom, as Gimli brought back yet another plate of Balrog wings. "Let's see how they taste".

"I've heard these are the best", said Gimli. "Apparantly, these wings actually came from Gothmog himself!"

Gimli, Trippo, Firondoiel, Arafangwen, and The Phantom all reached for the platter, but the wings were so hot that no one was able to pick one up, except The Phantom with the aid of his black leather gloves.

"No don't!!" cried Firondoiel as The Phantom moved the wing towards his lips.

"They haven't cooled off yet!" added Trippo as The Phantom took a bite.

His companions stared at him, waiting for some sort of reaction. His lips twitched twice and he blinked hard three times, and then he swallowed. As he opened his mouth to speak, a tongue of fire leapt out and lit the tablecloth on fire. Gimli swiftly smothered it.

"Wow, that was amazing!", said The Phantom, who was looking a bit more reddish in hue, but still smiling and able to speak intelligibly. "Does anybody want to try some of this?".

"No thanks" everyone replied in chorus.

"Me neither" returned The Phantom, pushing the platter in front of an empty chair and draining both his glass and Arafangwen's.

[ May 01, 2003: Message edited by: the phantom ]

Firondoiel turns to Arafangwen. "I thought you were leaving your husband at home."

"Well, I thought I was but I decided to at least let him escort me."

"Oh. Well lucky for us he was gone by the time the fan girls got here!" Firondoiel sighs with relief.

Firondoiel notices Airehiriel by herself and gestures for her to take a seat at their table.

[ May 01, 2003: Message edited by: Firondoiel ]

Niluial stood talking to Varda about where both of them got there dresses from. She spoke to Varda because she had lost Don and he was no where to be seen. She saw a tall handsome man standing by the beverage section. His eyes were searching the room, with a worried look. “Don” she blurted out. “Ummm.. what..?” Varda asked looking at Niluial strangely. Niluial blushed feeling slightly embarrassed for the out burst. She smiled at Varda, “Please do forgive me but I need to excuse myself”. She walked up to Don with relief. Don spotted her and smiled also looking relieved. “Wow I thought I lost my date for a second” he said laughing. He handed her a glass of red wine, “thank you, well this is my third glass of wine and its only the beginning of the evening, I hope I don’t get tipsy” she said laughing.

Don put his arm around her shoulder almost she show everyone ‘look everyone, look who I brought to the Party’. Don took Niluials hand “come on we have only had one dance, you deserve another!” he said. They danced to the slow music. Don pulled Niluial closer “I don’t want to loose you again” he whispered in her ear. Niluial rested her head on Dons shoulder, because she felt relaxed sawing in his arms. She looked around seeing all the other dates dancing romantically. The romantic moment was spoiled by load music blasting through the speakers. Everyone faced the stage.

Elves were doing a dance with fire. Everyone watched in awe.. The cameras flashed, taking pictures of the amazing dance. Not a word was sad not even the Fan Girls spoke…

Ainaserkewen is getting quite tired, after all the "predictions" She would like to sit down with friends.

Then, in the crowd she notices Firondoiel sitting across the room.

"Hey." she says. "Seen anyone else yet?"

Firondoiel hears Ainaserkewen and replies, "I sure have. Arafangwen is sitting right here next to me. And here's The Phantom, Trippo, and Gimli. Come join us."

[ May 01, 2003: Message edited by: Firondoiel ]

Arafangwen jumped back at the sudden "outburst" on the phantoms part, then proceded to allow him to have her drink, she dosn't drink much but water and sweet tea anyways. She suddenly noticed that Airehiriel had entered the room and along with Firondoiel waves for her to come along and join thier merry group. "I wonder when they shall start presenting the awards", she said, as the rest of the group nodded thier heads in agreement.

"Poppy Took. Poppy Took!" Cami waved valiantly at the only other hobbit in sight. Cami had glimpsed Frodo with a friend, but he had disappeared without greeting her. She pulled Poppy into a corner so they could avoid the mob. Then she shook her head, "This is worse than last year. So crowded! And look what the Big Folk are wearing." Cami rolled her eyes. "By the way, I do like your dress."

Cami gazed admiringly at Poppy's blue silk gown, a simple but striking outfit which showed off the girl's figure to her singular advantage. Cami's own wardrobe had been dictated by circumstances. She had exactly one party dress hanging in her closet, an old-fashioned gown of green silk that Bilbo had given her. She was happy with her choice.

"Cami, why are you still sitting here instead of coming inside?"

Cami chuckled. "First, I had to take delivery on some snakpaks from Urak Beef and Offal. That's why it smells so bad. But I also promised Maura I'd stay till my escort arrives." Glancing up the corridor, she glimpsed fifty Uruk-hai bent under a massive metal box with tiny peepholes in the sides. They advanced and halted in front of Cami as she grabbed at the note:.

Dearest Cami,

Gandalf told me of your need, and I am pleased to make you a loan of Meneltarma's guardian to serve as your escort at the birthday bash. Make sure she behaves and doesn't fight with her kin. If I recall, the two of you met at last year's party.

Best wishes to you and Maura. Give my regards to Pio, Mithadan, and Bird. May you ever hear the horns of Ulumuri in your dreams.

Ulmo
Lord of the Waters

Cami smiled without explaining. "Could you help me pry off the lid?" Both hobbits picked up crowbars left by the Uruk and began to pull and strain.

An understated, but bright pink car pulled up outside the venue for the party. With a squeak a Hobbit popped out- impatient to get partying she had used the window. As the cameras started flashing she fell over.
NO! They'll all have pictures of me on the floor. Red carpet nightmare! thought Lyra with a groan. Lyra? I could have sworn I was called Ellie a minute ago!
Pondering the strange things that can go in a feverish imagination, Lyra got up and began to run full tilt at the door, her dark green dress billowing behind her. At least I didn't change to Mara she thought with a shiver.

"Any weapons?" asked an ugly looking Orc at the door. Can't be... Lyra thought. There was something disturbingly familiar about him. The Orc turned to his bigger and uglier companion. "'Ows Courtney, bruv?" It is!
"Excuse me, Mr Orc is your name by any chance Phil?" The snarl reminded her why they were the most hated creatures in middle earth. Well, except Orli-lovers and shieldmaidens. Mental note: Pretend my name is Took... Casting a last stare around at the placard waving half-elf, orphaned shieldmaidens protesting for the use of magic in RPGs, she walked in.

Wow! Music, lights, colour, very strange people... It was a lot for the Hobbit to take in. She gazed around. Over here, a stereotypically good looking Elf with a gaggle of girls drooping all over him. Over there, a strange man covered in saucepans. Perhaps he's a descendent of the Gardners. I heard they all like to carry saucepans and frying pans around all the time... And all over, couples. Mumbling to herself under her breath about Elves who hit the big-time, got blonde wigs and started going out with Christina Ricci, Lyra stomped off to get a drink.

Happy couples everywhere and nobody talking to a poor deserted Hobbit. And I have to keep using these damn italics to show I'm thinking to myself! she mused angrily. I need to cheer myself up. I know! A conga! With a cheery smile, Lyra began a strange solitary conga to the dulcet tones of, err, Pink. Well you can't have everything!

“Ah there is a old friend, do you mind if I go say hello” Don asked. “You can say hello to who you want I am not stopping you” Niluial said laughing. She saw Firondoiel. *hmm never speaking him but maybe I should introduce myself* she thought. She walked up to Firondoiel. “Hello I am Niluial” she said, her eyes twinkling in the light.

Amidst the rearing steeds, roaring car engines, ravishing wargs, and raging light-bulbs popping, Lush had more than a slight difficulty in making it to the red carpet relatively unmolested.

Clad in a white suit, with a smile of pure innocence on her face, sweet, gentle, certainly-without-a-doubt-not-intent-upon-any-sort-of-mischief Lush made her way down the red carpet.

"I don't know, she still comes off as a nymphomani...!!!" Shouted some voice, but it was stifled among the roars of approval that greeted the latest gorgeous Elven arrivals.

"Where's your date???" A reporter shouted in her (innocent) face.

"A girl needs a date about as much as a Wight needs a tanning bed." Lush grinned innocently in reply and walked on.

To the question regarding the presence of weapons on her persona (did we mention how utterly innocent that persona was?), she replied simply:

"Moi?"

The guards, overpowered by the overwhelming innocence shining out of every pore on her Slavic face, stood dumbfounded before her.

"Oh now, none of that!" Said Lush. "Let me in. I'll never be your tryst of burden. I've walked for miles, my feet are...Ok, my slippers are sensible, but that's beside the point."

Practically blinded by Lush's spotless innocence by then, the guards parted in front of her, just to be rid of the bright light and the annoying headache (largely reminiscent of the kind of headache you get after staying up all night slam-dancing and downing screwdrives, not that Lush would know anything about that) it brought on.

A grey-eyed female figure edged her way in through the door. She had only a very few minutes, but had heard there was free champagne to be had. Psst! Barman! Your best Bollinger, if you please...Sipping quickly but contentedly, Lalaith looked around her. It looked great fun. Later, perhaps, with more time on her hands, she could slip in again and mingle.

Anuion almost sank to his knees. Aman caught him before he could and lifted him to his feet.

"What is wrong? You have not even touched a drink yet." She said worried.

"It's nothing sweetie. It's like someone was saying what I was doing without me doing it. You know that feeling?"

"Oh yeah, had it several times."

"Well, I think I'm fully in control again. Wait a sec, Ill be right back. Just be getting us a drink if you don't mind." He said while added a little wink.

The wink took much of his courage so he just went straight to the bar where he saw Maika and Cuthalion. He ordered the drinks before shaking Cuthalion's hand.

"Good to see you old man. Good to see you indeed. Love the clothes man. Good work. So Maika, you are not still pouting about the no-weapon rule right?" Anuion said cheerfully.

Maika smiled at Anuion and Anuion, gentle as always, kissed her hand. His left eye caught a glimpse of Fin and his posse. Fin was smiling. Why shouldn't he be? Anuion gave him a thumbs up. He did not mind. He was accompanied by the prettiest girl on the downs. Although, that is what he thought. Anuion smiled at the broad grin on Fin's face as he gave a thumbs up back and went back to find Aman.
She was still there. Tapping her foot on the ground with her arms in her side. Impatient little devil. He went over and gave her the drink. He could not have been happier. This party was going to be the best one ever.

"Note to self: Thank Mithadan gratefully." Anuion thought to himself while smiling to his lovely date.

The Phantom casually glanced down at his pager (it was going off). "If you'll excuse me, I have some urgent business to attend to. I'll be back when I'm back."

The other guests at the table did not seem offended. This was typical of The Phantom. "So, do you think he's making some business calls or do you think he's off to divert some sort of disaster?" asked Gimli.

"Probably both", answered Trippo. "He's a busy guy".

"Hello Airehiriel!" said Arafangwen as her aquaintent walked up to the table. "I was under the impression that a friend of yours was going to do an interview with me. If you see her, could you please inquire about that for me?" she asked innocently. Gimli meanwhile, proceded to wonder of the wherabouts of GaladrielOfTheOlden, she still owed him a dance....

A pair of silvery white horses trotted up to the red carpet surrounded by what seemed to be a dozen royal guards. The couple on the horses were dressed gloriously. Cameras turned to face the couple and the crowds stood in awe of the site. The High King and Queen of Gondor had arrived!!! The crowds started cheering and the cameras flashed wildly as the King and Queen dismounted and stepped onto the carpet. King Aragorn held out his arm to the Queen, she took and they began to walk towards the Hall, pausing for pictures and short interviews.
The Queen Arwen thought to herself,
"This will be a wonderful evening."
After a few more photos, she said to her husband,
"Shall we enter my Lord?"
Aragorn smiled and answered,
"We shall."

[ May 01, 2003: Message edited by: Arwen Evenstar the Fair ]

She left Firondoiel table, for nothing much was happening there. Niluial spotted Lyla a lovely hobbit friend to make. *I am sure I know that name from somewhere* she thought. The RPG! She really liked Lyla, Niluial remembered. Niluial didn’t move elegantly along the floor but hurriedly. She knocked over some weird looking animal, creature, well some thing. “Oh are you alright” Niluial asked the creature. The creature made a strange weird noise and snapped at her, and then it ran of. Then an elf stood on her foot “OUCH!” she shrieked. She glared at the elf for he did not even give an apology.

She stormed off feeling a little moody and her foot was in pain. *Ill be reporting that strange thing to the guards* she thought. She gave a little sigh and thought hard *now where was I going*. All the commotion made her blank. She stood in the crowd a little puzzled. She felt lost and a little tipsy but not too tipsy [img]smilies/wink.gif[/img]. A waiter walked passed and turned back “are you ok Miss?” he asked. “Oh yes I am fine just enjoying the view…” she replied. The crowd just grew and grew, it would be impossible to find Don. So she stood there, looking around feeling a wee bit lonely.

Aylwen strolled gracefully down the…blood red carpet. She had not planned on being fashionably late to the party, but school had dictated otherwise. Who in Middle-Earth plans the Superfit two Mile Run on the day of the Barrow-Downs Anniversary party? Aylwen kept asking herself, but dismissed the issue after deciding to enjoy herself at the party.

Aylwen had originally intended on wearing funeral-type clothing, after all, it was a death day party. But Aylwen later decided that black would not suit for all the people of Middle-Earth that had not been invited, whose season fashion was taken from the clothing of those lucky enough to be going to the party. Aylwen, used to more casual clothing and her teams’ sports uniforms, had declined the offer from Dunland Dresses to wear one of their newest gowns. Instead, the bard had decided to wear comfortable brown breeches. Used to the military life, Aylwen’s parents had taught her to keep her boots spit-shined so that one could see their reflection, and the boots she wore to the party were no exception. Her tunic was a beige color, for it matched every sash Aylwen had tied around her waist. The scarves were all bright and colorful, and one was black with pale green embroidery on it, in honor of the Barrow-Downs’ colors. Her black hair was in loose curls, adorned with the pale green that so often reminded her of the Barrow-Downs.

The horrible cook had tried the previous night to bake chocolate chip cookies, adding a drop of green food coloring to the mix in attempts to bring out the green in things. Aylwen was unsuccessful in three whole batches of cookies, except for a few single cookies for each batch, which in the end were sneakily stolen by Aylwen’s younger and older siblings. So, the girl brought only a letter of apology for her lack of a proper gift.

Time to party!

[ May 01, 2003: Message edited by: Aylwen Dreamsong ]

"I belive we were just refered to as boring Trippo!" Arafangwen said in shock.
"I belive it's nonensence" said Trippo, although in his current state it sounded more like "Eye leaf ins sence", or something like that. "Firondoiel, I belive our part in this party is quite dull at the moment. Does anyone have any random ideas?" asked Arafangwen in sincere hopefulness.

“Cami!” Poppy smiled warmly, while helping her prise off the lid, as she wrinkled up her nose at the smell of the snakpaks. “How are you? What’s this about an escort?"

"Ah, Maura doesn't feel it's safe," Cami shrugged. "Never mind, I think I have it sorted."

A few more minutes of fighting the lid with the crowbars, and it came flying off, the smell of the orcs' snakpaks even stronger.

[ May 01, 2003: Message edited by: *Varda* ]

Airehiriel took a seat at the table with Arafangwen and Firondoiel. She was happy to finally be with people she knew.

She surveyed the gathered group. She liked everyones clothing. She always loved going to nice events like these to see what people would wear, and her friends were nicely adorned.

She smiled at the group.
"I can't believe I tripped on my way in!"

"You tripped?" Asked Firondoiel?

"Yeah, right infront of the cameras. I think they have it all on film. You could probably assemble the pictures into a little flip book and see the whole thing recreated! What a dork!"

Arafangwen smiled, "Legolas dropped me off."
She sighed with the thought of her husband.

Airehiriel looked at her, "That was nice of him, I thought he wasn't coming."

"He was only here for minute." She smiled wistfully.

Airehiriel wished she had a husband like that. On second thought, she wished she could have any husband! She was such a clutz, most of the eligable Elves avoided her.

She sighed. ~Oh well.~ She sipped on water and listened to the conversations of her friends.

Firondoiel got up from to table and followed Niluial. "Thank you for coming over and introducing youself. I'm sorry if we were boring to you. Where's you partner? I've seen you two on the dance floor a lot."

"He went to say hi to a friend." Niluial replied.

"Oh. Would you like to come back to our table? I'm sure we can liven things up a bit."

[ May 01, 2003: Message edited by: Firondoiel ]

Free of Sunny Day, Maegaladiel sighs in releif. She grins boyishly at Sophia.

"You have saved my life!" she says. "I am eternally in you debt. I would get on the ground and kiss your shoes if I knew where they had been." She laughs and helps herself to some of the exquisite food being offered. "I'm afraid the Countess du Cianide won't stay at bay for long." She jabs over her shoulder with her thumb, pointing at the dissapointed-looking Sunny Day.

The reporter seems to perk up as Mae aknowledges her presence, but her face falls as the Uruk guard at the door asks her for her identification. After claiming that the green pen could be a hazardous weapon, the Uruk escorts Sunny Day outside.

Mae turns her attention to Sophia's handsome date. And his other 'dates'.

"Pleased to meet you all!" she says.

Despite the obvious splendour of Arwen and Aragorn, and the excitement caused by their arrival among the other guests, the Dwarf with the Beard and the Elf who married the Dwarf with the beard were oblivious. They were in each other's arms on the dancefloor...the music wasn't slow, but they didn't care, they were dancing a slow dance anyway. They were also oblivious to the smirks and sneers that they were getting, and to the small hobbit dancing a solitary conga around them. They could've been part of a painting called "Matrimonial Bliss"...there could've been a song written about them called "Blissful in Oblivion"...there could've been a romance novel written about them called "Triumph in Adversity"...there could've been great sonnets and ballads written about them... but alack there was not, so, let us not muse on what could've been but on what there is: an elf and a dwarf, dancing slowly together and a small hobbit called Lyra doing the solitary conga around them...

“Lush? Lush, is that you?” Diamond exclaimed in wide-eyed surprise, suddenly appearing rather like an anime deer caught in the headlights of a Hummer. She made her way over to the purity-radiating white apparition, who was looking particularly fair and cold as she smiled with the utmost innocence.

The denim-clad diamond-studded Downer finally waded through the other guests to greet Lush’s arrival. “It’s amazing,” she gasped, kicking aside a scrawny looking Warg whose appearance smacked of his mother having had an illicit affair with a lemming. “The food and drinks are unending, how on Middle-earth did Mith managed to acquire it all? We should both find him and give him a kiss for his efforts.”

“Moi? Kiss an admin?” Lush laughed lightly, looking lovely in her prodigious purity. “Surely you mistake me for someone else!”

“Nonsense,” Diamond said, taking her by the arm. “Let’s find him. I also need to talk to him about his…er… questionable musical selection.”

[ May 01, 2003: Message edited by: Diamond18 ]

"Yes" said Arafangwen in her slightly dreamy state, "All here at this table surely do deserve a husband as good to them as mine is to me!".

"I also belive," she said, shaking her head and returning to a normal state(if you could ever call her normal),
"That you will all find your "prince charming" in due time. That's all it is, a matter of time."

She finished with another sigh as she wished she could have her husband by her side at that very moment.

"I love that idea Firondoiel!" said Arafangwen from across the room, for it was true that things did seem to need a bit of "livening up", but she still had no middle earthly idea how to do just that....

Anuion heared someone saying that the party was dull at the moment. What did they know? This party was already at his best. Aman was sipping her drink and glanced at the dancefloor a little. Anuion's heart skipped. He did admit he took a lot of dancing lessons when he heared about Aman going with him, but it was still scaring him to death. He would rather have to fight Pio's Wargs. Although they did not seem to give much of a threat with those nice decoratioins. Anuion sniggered at the Wargs who showed them their teeth. Anuion just smiled at them and sat himself closer to Aman, who had ran out of liquid.

"How about a little dance then?" He asked while going as red as Aman's hair.

She smiled back and waved her scarlet red hair. With an evil look on her face she grabbed Anuion's wrist, faced him very close and whispered: "Let's get it on elf boy. Let's see if you have swing."

Anuion allowed her to guide him to the dancefloor. They danced a little on the music from the band. Anuion understood why people found it a tincy bincy boring. He trew a tape to the DJ. After the song was done, the DJ inserted the tape and the flowing Mambo Nr. 5 bashed out of the boxes.
Anuion had practised hard on the steps. He grapped her on the hip and ran her arround the floor. He did not care for the others. He hardly crashed into another pare. He waved by and in the near accident he cought a glimp of Cuthalion. He waved along the floor with Aman in his footsteps. GOD! Did he love dancing.

“Oh Firondoiel I would love to come join your table” Niluial replied feeling allot better.

Firondoiel smiled and led Niluial back to their table. "Everyone, this is Niluial, and Niluial this is Arafangwen, Trippo, Ainaserkewen, Airehiriel, Gimli, and that..." She points to the retreating Phantom. "...Is The Phantom. He should be rejoining us soon. His pager went off. Though why he left it on at the party I have no idea."

Firondoiel and Niluial sit at the table. "Now," Firondoiel says, "To liven things up..."

[ May 01, 2003: Message edited by: Firondoiel ]

"I do belive that's Mambo # 5 I hear." said Arafangwen shaking her head in dismay.

"So Niluial, tell me a little about your self, as I don't really know anyone here that well, unless you count Gimli but he isn't even awake." she said as she pointed out the snoring and obviously drugged Gimli sitting next to a certain Trippo the hippo who was trying his hardest to look innocent, but was failing miserably.

Sophia laughed as Maegaladiel offered to kiss her shoes. Bending down under the table she fished out one of the dainty red slippers she'd discarded earlier and held it out. "It hasn't been very many places..." she said, apologetically, as she offered it up to be kissed.

Mae laughed hysterically as she reached out and took the shoe between two of her fingers. "Oh my..." she said, looking the shoe over curiously. "it is rather clean." She went to set it down, but Fin stopped her.

"Aaah, you can't get out of it now!" he grinned wickedly and pushed the shoe toward Mae. Sophia laughed hysterically, but noted, out of the corner of her eye she saw Sunny Day creeping up on them. Suddenly she was accosted by the Uruk-guards and dragged out the door, all the while shrieking in the most undignified manner.

Mae, however was looking at the shoe Fin held up to her with slight distaste. She finally threw up her hands in mock frustration, and planted a dainty kiss on the red slipper. Sophia and company cheered. Fin had procured a second bottle of wine, and they prepared for a good toast.

The door opened. In walked Arwen Imladris.

"Bartender, could I have one of those, on ice please."

Arwen sits down at a table and raises her glass.

"A Toast to the Barrow downs!"

Arwen Imladris throws her head back and tips some of the liquid down her throught.

"Ahh, that's the stuff!"

Aragorn and Arwen entered the Hall, music was playing, and everyone was eating or dancing and talking with one another, Mith came over and greeted them and moved on to welcome other guests. Arwen turned to see Frodo coming up with a wide grin on his face, Arwen tapped Aragorn and he turned around as well.
"Greetings my friend." said Aragorn.
Frodo gave a bow. "Greetings."

Outside, behind the cordons, the swarming masses were calming down. The security Uruks were beginning to relax slightly, and liveried guards were considering the now rather stained carpet and asking one another whose fault this would be come the morning. Reporters for minor journals were pontificating wildly about events within in a desperate attempt to sound as though they had been invited there, and many of their sound crews had already gone for cigarette breaks regardless, an act of mercy to the general public that was destined to go unrewarded.

Into the midst of this maelstrom of anticlimax pulled a somewhat nondescript London black cab. From its open driver's-side window came the sound of an animated monologue:
"Like I said, Squire: 'angin's too good fer 'em. Dunno 'oo woz in charge of 'irin' 'em, but I call it a bleedin' disgrace: bloomin' Uruks on the door. It'll be Balrogs next. 'Ad one of 'em in me cab once. Filthy bleeder couldn't 'ardly get 'is wings in and then it took me a week ter clean the scorch marks off. 'Angin's too good fer 'em..."

The rear door of the unhandsome cab swung open rather hurriedly and its sole passenger handed over a few odd-looking notes, insisting that the cabbie, who was still in full swing and now complaining about Dunlendings, whom he accused against all the evidence to the contrary of wanting to steal his job, keep the rather substantial change. His thoughts at that moment were unprintable, but under his breath he was murmuring "O brave new world, That hath such people in't!"

Slamming the door behind him with a grateful sigh, the no-longer captive audience straightened the lapels of his black overcoat and tweaked a silk bow tie into a yet more geometrically perfect shape. Perching his wide-brimmed trilby at a jauntier angle and pulling his long pony-tail out from inside his coat, the Squatter of Amon Rûdh made his way past a pair of cameramen, who were arguing about which had got a better shot of that dress and round to a side entrance, where he handed a somewhat dog-eared ticket to the particularly large and brutish door-ward and was grudgingly admitted. The door-Uruk hated it when people had tickets.

Inside, the hat was removed and became a receptacle for a pair of black leather gloves and a white scarf. Removing his coat he wandered off in search of a flunky and eventually found one who didn't take him for a waiter. Tipping the man for his grudging service with a nine-shilling note, which bore the head of Edward VIII and the date 1982, he pulled his black dinner jacket so that it hung more comfortably, straightened his cummerbund and shot his cuffs. Then he made for the bar, muttering something about time zones and bloody-minded scripts.

Armed with a treble Macallan, a rather more relaxed Squatter located a seat somewhere near the middle of the audience that the cameras were ignoring and made a bee-line for it, deftly liberating a glass of champagne from a passing tray as he walked. A man may attend prestigious events for many reasons: to make career contacts; to rub shoulders with the great and the good; even simply to soak up the atmosphere. Squatter was in it for the free booze.

[ May 01, 2003: Message edited by: The Squatter of Amon Rûdh ]

A sleek black limousine pulled up to the red carpet. A murmur of excitement went through the crowd -- who could possibly be so fashionably uncouth to arrive so late in such a spectacular vehicle?

The door of the limo opened slightly. A three-inch heeled shoe, a perfectly groomed foot, a long, slender leg slipped gracefully to the red carpet. The crowd gasped as the remainder of the woman slid out of the vehicle. Her long, wavy, brown hair flowed flawlessly onto her tanned shoulders. Her rouged lips broke into a perfect smile as she saw the reactions to her long, blood red dress.

She glided gracefully down the carpet, managing to seem unbothered by the fact that she was seven hours late, and ignoring the reporters who were clamoring for and interview.

As she reached the doorway into the Hall, she turned and blew a kiss to her adoring fans who were screaming from the carpet. She entered and looked around. From somewhere in the crowd she heard an excited yell:

"Galad! You're here!"

[ May 01, 2003: Message edited by: Galadrie1 ]

“Hello, everyone” Niluial said trying to sound really happy.
“Now Niluial where do you come from?” Firondoiel asked with curiosity.
“Oh I come from Rivendell, well I’ve been to many places other than Rivendell but it is my home. And you? Niluial asked, but her eyes were searching the room as she spoke.