The Needlehole Mysteries

Part 1 - by Amarië

Nora glanced suspiciously at the invitation she had been delivered at the door. "This is s a joke, right?" The well dressed young man looked at her with shock.
"Oh no, Miss Herring. The Ambassador would never joke about something as important as this."
"I see... Oh, but sadly it requires traditional wear so I an forced to decline. Do tell the Ambassador that I am ever so sorry to miss this... grand event."
"No worries, Miss. The Ambassador has a wide collection of traditional Fjordlandian attire and she is only happy to let you use one from your family's area or to pick your favorite type."

Nora felt a slight panic rise as she forced herself to smile at the man. She had managed to avoid wearing those long wool dresses and puffy sleeved shirts for the whole year she had been in Fjordlandia.

"Oh how generous of her. May... may I ask who else is invited?"
The man beamed. "Just you and Mr Herring, Miss. And the Embassy staff of course. Mr. Herring said yes immediately. He said he had been the best in his Leikarring team as a child. I will let the Ambassador know she can expect you at eight then?"

"I'm gonna kill him" mumbled Nora under her breath.
"What was that, Miss?"
Mora smiled broadly. "I said it sounds thrilling! Hurry along and bye bye now! Would want to keep the Ambassador waiting, now, would we?"

The man smiled and bowed politely and nearly got hit in the head as Nora slammed the door. She glared through the curtains as he hurried back to the embassy. "Ringo, you are dead. So dead."

Part 2 - by Nora

Better bring something to the party as the tradition requires, Nora thought and huffed into the kitchen. I nice, big old cake would do, she imagined. She was quite a prodigy when it came to the famous kvæfjordkaka, she had only learned from the very best, Nana Herring.

Unfortunately she had spent a long time in the police force since last time she’d baked this masterpiece, and she soon found herself in an awful lot of clutter, and flour lay thick in the air like a morning fog. Nora grabbed her hair in frustration, leaving some fine, white imprints in her curls. "oh man, this doesn't look too good"
Suddenly a very unwelcomed noise came from the boiling sauce.
“NO! fuck, fuck, fuck FUCK!” She hurried over and lifted the kettle over and in the prosess burnt her fingers and spilt half the sauce on the floor, and, alas, it was beyond rescue. She screamed out in defeat. It’ll have to make or break, she thought, and put the cake in the oven. She was already terribly late, so she turned the heat up. She had less than half an hour to get ready, not to mention she had to change into those ridiculous clothing when she got there, so she ran upstairs to try to get the flour out of her hair and put on something decent.

“miss Herring?” What the bloody-? Ringo, here, now? Jumping desperately into some high waist jeans she headed for the stairs, only to fall like a sack of potatoes and landing half dressed in front of the gentlehobbit, resulting in a whole galaxy of stars.
“you okay?” Ringo laughed, but stopped when he saw the vicious look on Nora’s face.
“I will have you skinned and made into shoes, Ringo.” She hissed, but her plans were abruptly changed as a very disturbing black smoke welled out from the kitchen.

Part 3 - by Amarië

{{{ Kvæfjordkake. Nora is awesome.}}}

Ringo jumped aside and found it wise to not interfere unless spoken to. A long continuous stream of rather colourful language flooded from the kitchen, as windows flew up and what had once been a cake flew out. After a few minutes when Nora stopped to breathe, he dared to make a suggestion.

"So.. how about we share the credit for my awesome multekrem. I picked them, you whipped them."

Nora emerged scowling something fierce, a scowl which was ruined by coughing. Extensive military training kept Ringo from laughing.

Finally she sighed and threw her hands in the air.
"Fine, it's not like I have much of a choice. Where the heck did you find cloudberries anyway?"
Ringo raised an eyebrow.
"Nora. One never reveals one's cloudberry place."
"So... the market?"
"Bingo."
"The buthcer?"
"No, Dingo is the butcher. Bingo is farmer Dave's nephew. Why are you making me into shoes?"

"Because you accepted the Ambassador's invitation!" she snarled and flailed her arms in the air. "All this is YOUR fault!!"
Ringo shrugged and frowned a bit.
"It sounded like fun! How was I to know you would destroy your kitchen? Besides!" he added quickly, "it may be wise to stay on Amarie's good side."
"Oh, it's Amarie now, is it?"

Ringo drew his breath and made a looong exhale. "Well, that is her name. The cart is waiting, the ponies are getting restless, you look... lovely, and we have to go now."

Part 4 - by Nora

“yeah, lovely, that’s the word I was looking for.” Nora gave the sergeant a little smile. “lovely, all this, destroying my kitchen, flour in my hair, falling down the stairs with my jeans around my knees, lovely” She cracked up and they both ended up giggling like lunatics.
“Let me just get my coat and I’ll be outside in a minute.” Agent Nora said as she disappeared into the closet.

She soon found out that of all the carts in Needlehole, Ringo had chosen the finer sort. Both ponies were a lovely shade of grey, probably the very same grey that was massively debated. The cart itself was shiny black, very posh indeed.
“wow, Ringo, isn’t this a bit too much?”
“There is no such thing as too much” Ringo smirked.
“Oh, you would know that.” Agent Nora said as she jumped inside while Ringo, being a gentlehobbit, held the door open. “Those woollen kneesocks and that vest, and the hat, sexy bastard.”
“ha ha, very funny. You choose a matching one or I’ll tell everyone of your festivities on midsummers eve involving Fireworks and the lousy dragon Smuag the not-so-magnificent.”
“Don’t you dare!” Nora said and pulled Ringo’s top hat over his face. “Or I’ll tell everyone of cousin Bjørg-Berta and Arnhild whom you so fondly taught golf.” Ringo’s face turned scarlet red.
“How do you even know about that!?”
“I’m an agent and I have several master degrees in everything at the university of Mirkwood.” She smiled a little. “I know everything.”

Part 5 - by Amarië

The long, winding road up to the embassy came into view, just as Ringo was about to make a most cunning, accurate and humorous reply. But what came out was "Great flapping flouders... What's with all the ships?"

A hobbit with a very broad smile greeted them and offered to park their cart, and soon they were walking slowly up the path with polite smiles plastered on their faces.

Two long boats had been placed on either side of the road, trees had been decorated with lamps, most in shape of ships. Many hobbits wearing more or less accurate traditional Fjordian outfits, buzzed about. Some seemed to be serving food and drinks, others were gathering round what seemed to be a wooden deck.

A girl carrying a tray of empty mugs hurried by and Nora took the opportunity to ask her some questions.
"Excuse me, miss. What's with all the ships?"
"Smooth, Nora" whispered Ringo.
"We do this every other year or so, miss! It's a shame to leave this large area unused. We are ever so fond of ships here, we each have our favorite! And these two biges here are the biggest favorites! One is called Canon and the other Slash, don't know why, really... When the party is over, we bury them in the ground, and dig them up when we need them again!!"
"Oh, that is... very clever!" smiled Nora politely and exchanged a quick glance with Ringo.

"Oh look, there's your precious Amarie. She's waving! Wave to Amarie, Ringo. Amarie Herring, does have a nice ring to it, doesn't it?"
"Great, you marry her then! She won't have to read another newspaper for the rest of her life since you know everything! Oooo, is that rømmegraut?"

Part 6 - by Nora

The seargent headed for the table where the godly porrige was placed and Nora tried to hold him back, but as Ringo was very fond of Rømmegraut, she soon abandon the plan and hurried along. Though it was too late, Amarë had already spotted them and was approaching them at the table.
"Seargent Herring and Agent Nora!" Amarië greated them and gave them both a big hug, as standards in Fjordlandia were.
"How lovely to see you." Ringo was suddenly very busy drizzling cinamon and sugar on his portion of porrige.
"yes, you too. How great of you to throw this party." Nora replied politely while at the same time poking Ringo's ribs so that he would join in the conversation. It only resulited in giggling and a bit too much butter on the porrige.
"Ringo and I are very exited to be here."
"Nora, I see you aren't wearing bunad." Amarië said totally not jugding while tugging at the Agent's jumper. "Come along and you can choose one of mine. I have a rather great collection." Panicking, Nora grabbed the bowl of Rømmegraut from Ringo.
"oh, fank you Ringo." She said through a great mouthful of porrige. "I juft haft to finif thif firsht." Ringo sent her a fierce look (no one messes with his Rømmegraut) before starting on a new portion.
"well, well," Amarë said rather baffled. "the closet is through that door there, down the coridor, the fourth door on your left." Nora gave her a thumbs up as she had taken another mouthful, even bigger.
"We brought some Moltekrem" Ringo said and handed it to Amarë, "I hope it's good."
"oh, thank you very much, Ringo, it looks good. I love cloudberries, where did you pick them?"
"erm.."
"Where?"
"I can't te-"
"tell me!"
"one never-"
"just joking, you passed the test. I'll leave you to it. See you". as she walked of, Ringo wasn't overly convinced she was joking.
Nora had finished her porrige and tugged at Ringo's woolen vest. "come along, help me pick one. If I don't get dressed I'll probably never hear the end of it."

Part 7 - by Amarië

Ringo laughed, as if Nora had told a most charming joke or observation. "Indeed, my friend, indeeed!"

Much lower, and slightly leaned over his bowl he said:
"I am not following you into the Ambassador's closet. People are talking enough as it is! We are suppose to keep a low profile here. Besides..." he added, while looking as causal as possible. "Eldo would never forgive me."

Nora opened her mouth. Then closed it. Then she repeated this once more, before turning around and headed towards the house.
"So Nora," she thought to herself. "off you go into the Dark Planet embassy to borrow a dress from the Ambassador! Not a thing to worry about there... Is that door handle made of pure mithril?"

The door opened up to a reception area, which was currently empty. The hall at the other side looked inviting and homely. Not quite what one would expect from a representative for the Dark Planet. Lanterns lit up the passage and the walls had several paintings and drawing from Fjordlandia, and some of the calm and scenic areas of the Dark Planet which few here in the Forumshire knew (or cared to know) about.

Perhaps it was too homely, the soft rug on the floor and all. An omnious hall like this should have at least have a creepy echo! Then again, this was also the Ambassador's home. No wait: Amaaaaarië's home, Nora corrected in her mind and frowned a bit. Fjordian Amaaarië from the Dark Planet. Definitively too homely by far.

There were many doors to choose from. One door she knew lead to Amarie's private home where she and Ringo had been invited in. She was itching to know where the others led. She reminded herself that she was a guest and not on assignment. Perhaps some other time.

She soon found that 'closet' probably had a different meaning at the Dark Planet. This was more like an exhibit. Slightly baffled Nora walked by many niches and display cases with Fjordlandian items and clothes, seemingly organised from south to north. She stopped in front of a shirt and dress from Herringdale, or so the label said. It should be a match to Ringo's, and as good as any other probably.

"Agent Herring! Welcome, or should I say: Velkomen!" Nora jumped as Amarie suddenly appeared from seemingly nowhere. Nora had made sure to check for doors, she was a proper agent after all!

"Oh I apologize if I startled you. I came through the door behind the bear skin over there! It leads to a passage which goes... " She suddenly stopped and got a thoughtful expression on her face before she started speaking again.

"You must understand this place was built in the bleak times after the 'Devouring of the Forumshire', as some call it. Precautions had to be made to ensure the safety of our staff."

She suddenly seemed to brighten up a bit.
"And just between me and you, the long road serves a similar purpose. It has saved us many times from angry Scotshobbits who in a drunken fury decided to... let us say, make their voices heard. Halfway up they got tired and forget where they were going. Sadly it also confuses the Scothshobbit who delivers the newspapers."

Nora was not sure what to make of this stream of information, but she smiled. Perhaps the ambassador was simply being friendly. "Really? That is most fascinating. But I really must get dressed now, Ri..sergeant Herring is waiting."

"Oh but of course! We must not let the good sergeant wait. Let's see now... oh, but Herringland is too far south, don't you think? May I suggest this fine shirt from Langtoppi Huttiheita perhaps? And here, agent Herring is a gem you might like. This one here is a replica of an old dress from the Isle of Troms, where I believe your Grandmother has her roots. At the back there is, as tradition dictates, a fine embroidery of the Giant Red Herring caught in a net." Amarië's voice got a bit airy as she handed the dress to Nora.
"It was meant to bring good luck for those who travelled the seas to trade or fish or what other... goals one might have."

Nora studied the dress carefully. It wasn't too bad as far as heavy, itchy, traditional Fjordian costumes were concerned.

"So... miss Ambassador. You just happened to have commissioned a Troms Isle dress from a local seamstress... in my size."

"One might say I was inspired. But this is not just a collection for my own enjoyment. Keep the locals employed and part of the daily business and they may look kindlier upon your presence! But enough of that, let's get you dressed and ready. We don't want to miss the dance!"

Part 8 - by Amarië

Nora forced a smile. "Oh Eru forbid!" Ringo was probably warming up as they were speaking. Amarie clapped her hands and two older hobbit women came in. "These fine ladies will help you. " The ladies ushered Nora to a changing room, and in record time Nora found herself dressed up complete with mithill details and cuff links. She even had braids in her hair.

"There, now out you go, young lady." Nora hurried the best she could out of the exhibit or 'closet', away from the ladies and their cooing over her "typical Fjordian hair".

"Nora!" Ringo lit up as he saw her. "I almost didn't recognize you!"
"I'd rather chew if my own foot than to come to this 'party' again. Why are you holding a violin? You don't play?"
"No, but you do." He said with a grin.

Part 9 - by Nora
oh, god.. of course. She should've seen this one coming.
"okay, hand it to me" she said with a little smile. It was probably better than dancing afterall.. Ringo seamed very plased and he waved at her as he stepped out on the dancefloor. Nora had to bite her lip not to laugh at the dork. She lifted up the violin. It was a bit different than her own and it smelt of whoever had tuned it. As she felt the cold wood under her chin and the fine strings press gently under her fingertips she realized it was ages since she played last and that she truly missed it.
"right, are you ready Ringo?" Ringo held two thumbs up.
"A nice halling then?" She started off a bit awkward, a little out of tune, but as soon as she had warmed up, she found herself tramping along the rythm and dancing a little as the rest of the band joined in. Ringo jumped high and low and was all over the place with all kinds of acrobatic dancing. Rater impressive actually.
"faster!" someone yelled and they sped up the rythm until only Ringo and Amarië passionatly could follow. When they had finnished all 27 verses and the 30th repeat they all got great applaud.
"I need a drink" Nora said and hustled away from the spotlight. At the buckie bar she found a hobbit, not properly dressed after fjordian manner. Petty Tyrant had succesfully consumed the first barrel of the best Fjordian ale and was about to open another one.
"Petty, what are you doing here?"
"Oh, hello there. I'm enjoying the party, can't you tell?"
"yeah, but your not at all fjordian, are you?" She pointed at the scotshobbit's finest kilts and most well groomed sporran.
"well.. no, not technically, no. But way back me great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great grandmother was raped by some handsome viking-hobbit. So I feel a certain connection you see."
"you don't say" The agent said, a little sceptical..
"Nonono.. not like that.. I am just saying I have some roots.. and.." he trailed off, burped. "good buckie, this" and escaped in a rather loud gulping of ale.
Nora rolled her eyes and grabbed a drinking horn.
"be careful then"
"aye."

Spoiler:

I'm imagening Amassador Amarië with a full on crown and all.. like this:

Spoiler:

Part 10 - by Amarië

(Ok, thought of something else. Guess they are not going home just yet.)

Quietly moving away from the wannabe Viking Scotshobbit, Nora felt a cautious tap on her shoulder. Turning around she suddenly found herself surrounded by a number of wide eyed hobbits. The tap seemed to have come from a young man, who apparently had been appointed spokeshobbit for the group. He was stuttering and looked very nervous. "Um, excuse me miss... We don't want to bother you but... um... we were wondering... if... in Fjordlandia that is... is it really true that there are trolls roaming the streets at night?"

Glancing around she spotted Ringo standing at a safe distance grinning wide like an insane bear, answering the question why the hobbits suddenly had gathered around her. Quietly promising him all sorts of evil and cruel retributions, she opened her mouth trying to think of a good reply. She didn't get further than "Well...." before the rest of the group exploded with questions, talking fast and eagerly all at once. As she caught the question "Are the northern lights reindeer farts?" being asked in all sincerity, she had to laugh and she gave in.

"All right then, gather around. One question at the time."
She looked back at Ringo to give him the Glare-of-Impending-Doom, only to find he was busy giving Amarie the Eyebrow-of-Flirtatiousness. Eru have mercy, that man would flirt with a lamp post if he thought it would wink back.

Shuddering slightly at that sight she returned to the less nauseating question of reindeer farts and their uses.

Part 11 - by Nora

Nora had just merely convinced the eager hobbits that polar bears indeed roamed the streets and that trolls were absolutely a force of nature to be reckoned with, when she noticed her friend was no longer to be seen. That bastard, she thought, abandoning her like that, he could at least suffer with her or loath about his evil trick.
“now, that is all for now. Go ask the ambassador or Sgt Ringo Herring if you have any more question. I really could need something to drink.”
“Where’s the ambassador?” one of the hobbit lads asked. Yes, where indeed.
Nora went back to the food and drink table. It was a safe spot as it looked like she was really busy eating/drinking. Petty had dozed off under the table cloth and quite disgusted the agent adjusted his kilt slightly. Some kindness was still left in this world, she thought. Suddenly she heard some rambling in the kitchen and soon after the kitchen door was pushed forcefully open. Out came Ringo running, his shirt ripped open presenting his manly chest in all its glory, while desperately trying to pull his pants over his buttocks.
“Ringo, what the hell?” Agent Nora was stuck between bewildered amusement and actual concern.
“Shut it, just go” He shoved her away towards the back door as they heard Amarië’s voice calling for the sergeant. “Ringo” a little laugh escaped Nora’s lips-
“For the love of God, Nora, run!”
When they finally caught their breaths back in safety behind an fjordian outhouse and Ringo had tried a desperate attempt at buttoning his vest, which missed a couple of buttons, Nora said carefully:
“so… A little more than you bargained for?” Ringo blushed, something she didn’t think he acutally could.
“oh shut up” he said quietly as he rubbed a particularly sore spot on his chest. A bare patch between the curls. Nora didn’t want to know, so she didn’t ask about that.
“let’s just agree to never talk about this ever again.” Nora wanted to say something witty but the grave look on Ringo’s face stopped her. She just nodded seriously (while internally promising to never ever forget this).
“oh, and don’t tell Eldo.”
“aye..”

Part 12 - by Nora (couldn't help my self)

“Let’s just stay here for a while, Nora, I don’t really feel like going back just yet” Sgt Ringo said, sank down and leaned his head against the wall behind him.
“oh good gracious me,” Nora huffed and examined Ringo’s outfit. “Look what she’s done with your bunad!” She pointed at the ripped shirt and the buttons. Ringo still had his trousers pretty much down at his ankles as he had failed to pull them up while running, for various reasons, leaving next to nothing to the imagination.
“get up.” She demanded. He did so while politely covering (as best as he could) his equipment, as Nora calculated how much the repairing would cost. Several buttons were gone and his silver cuffs were mysteriously missing. The shirt he could at best save for pirate costumes. He’d also lost a shoe and his belt.
“get your pants on, Ringo”
“I am trying, can’t you see?! I got these bunad when I was fourteen, don’t expect too much”. With some help they did manage to pull them up, but Nora felt so awkward dressing up a full grown (very manly) man she ended up giggling, which set Ringo off too.
“omg, you should’ve seen your face!” Nora laughed while trying to adjust his curls back in order (and it proved impossible)
“Lol, you should’ve seen yours!” And they laughed until they cried and their stomachs ached.



Abruply ending, but I really have to go to bed.

Part 13 - by Amarië

Nora wiped a tear from her eye as the laughter died down. They were quiet a bit. Ringo assessed the damage done to his clothing and started to look a bit too lost in thought. Nora knew it was time to be firm. She was the only sane one here after all.

- Ok, Ringo. What were you thinking? NO!!! Don’t answer that! But she’s the Dark Planet ambassador, not some rosy cheeked bar maid.
- She’s definitely not your average bar maid… look at the state of my shirt!

Nora punched him hard in the arm, making the few curls she had succeeded in taming fall down and bounce merrily.

Ringo struck out his arms.
- What? I’m innocent! Mostly! I just went to collect the bowl we brought ‘moltekrem’ in, I turn and there she was! She said something about knowing a secret locations of cloud berries and…

Nora quickly put her fingers in her ears.
- Lalalalaaaaa!
Ringo glared at her, then pulled a face with his lips tightly sealed to demonstrate that he had stopped talking. Nora squinted her eyes at him, then quickly resumed to her lection.

- She is the ambassador!
- Yes, you’ve mentioned that. Gosh darn it, I had no idea!
- Shut up! You were flirting! I saw you! You are... incorrigible! Never mind that Eldo would kill you, what if you make …little …ambassadors.

She illustrated her point by making her fingers run across the palm of her hand like tiny feet. Ringo turned a bit green at the idea, but quickly shrugged it off.

- Really, neither of us are that stupid, what we did was…
- Lalalalalaaaaaaa! Images! Horrible images!
- Okeeeeey! Maybe you should stop talking about it then! But I think we should get going now before we draw more attention to ourselves.

- What about your bowl? mocked Nora.
- Casualty of war. Will be sadly missed. Pony cart. Now.

They sneak away to the gate trying not to giggle and stood impatiently while waiting for their pony and cart. And elderly hobbit wearing an apron came rushing down towards them. He was carrying two tins which he placed on the back on the cart.

- Leftover 'rømmegraut', he explained gracefully, thought slightly out of breath.
- Compliments of our hostess.

He gestured with his hand, and both Herrings cast a worried glance back up towards the embassy where they see Amarie at a distance. She gave a small wave and a seemingly kind smile. Though to Nora she did look a bit like the cat who caught the mouse. Still, they both waved back with a forced polite smile in return.

- How very kind of her! exclaimed Nora to the man, then quickly climbed up the cart and had the pony moving before Ringo had time to sit down. He nearly tumbled over the seat. Luckily, he was a very agile hobbit so all went well. He did not mind getting a quick getaway.

- She seems to take it well... mumbled Nora, then she shuddered as Ringo's ears turned red.

The next day one of the display cabinets in Amarie's "closet" would be the home of a new item. The label read:
"Authentic Fjordian cuff links and shirt buttons. Donated anonymously."

Norc wrote:oh yeah, of course they are just great characters to play with. I just hope Ringo actually comes around and catches up. It seems a bit weird that the main character of the latest story is unaware of the reputation we give him

hint hint RINGDROTTEN!

Eldorion wrote:Looks great, guys! Thanks for collecting all the installments into one post, Nora. And thanks for adding the link to the OP, Amarie. I love that you guys are keeping the fanfic stories going!

NB I like your new avatar, Amarie.

Norc wrote:glad you liked them xD i didn't lol heh... but I always enjoy drawing ringo's bear.. bear.. no that's not how you spell it .. BARE! BARE!! I MEANT BARE CHEST!

Norc wrote:dayum for Am or Ringo