Peeder Jigson and the Arkenstone of Doom

Mrs Figg wrote:

I think the chimbleys were Halfies idea, but I stole it.

Ha! Then your choice of ideas to steal is impeccable then! I, of course, would never steal other people's ideas... {{{ }}}

malickfan wrote:Frankly if Jackson and Co ever stumbled across this place we'd probably all be sued for libel...or being very very rude at least! Poor PJ imagine him crying into his beard...

Libel is only applicable when what you're saying is untrue.   

As in all Good tales, it didnt take five seconds to get from one realm to another, but lasted simply ages. Peeder was getting bored and cranky, he didnt see the point. Where were the mysterious teleporting and ElvenSkype updates from ponderous twirling tarts in sparkly frocks?
sheesh! this place was low tech.
''Are we nearly there yet?' he whined.
''NO'' shouted the Dwarves.
Thorin was pretty cheesed off and rode up to Gandalf seeking reasurance, ''this Peeder fellow is highly recommended you say Gandalf? is he a good burglar because to my mind he's nowt but a selfish self-deluded prat''
''Oh I think he has some tricks under his sleeve, he told me he likes to take things, poo on them, and return them to their owner encased in a glossy patina. Turd polishing I think he called it, but I really wouldnt know, not having a clue what patina is''.
Thorin scratched his beard and trotted on trying to fathom those strange foreshadowings.

Peeder Jigson was coming to the awful realization he was actually in Middle Earth, and he knew that he was being punished. and it was just not fair.
The days went by riding, sleeping under the stars and sloshing about in the rain and mud. Nothing much happened. During the days he rode at the back of the pack silent and sullen, at night he sat as far away from the Dwarves as he could without losing the heat of the fire.
One particularly freezing night he swallowed his bruised ego and huddled near to the campfire, he was feeling very sorry for himself and had just rudely refused Balins offer of an extra blanket.
The Dwarves were quite polite to Peeder, and tried their best to include him when they could.
They all sat round the crackling Golden fire, the stars burned brightly in the velvet sky, the Dwarves told tales and sang, and despite his best efforts Peeder listened to their stories with pleasure. He felt himself being drawn in, his mind became intoxicated and almost hypnotised by the wonders they had seen and the adventures they had. The Dwarves told of their mighty halls, dark forests, daring deeds, storms on the mountain tops, starlight on deep water. Peeder imagined he could hear the Dwarven trumpets sound, the clash of axe on stone, the wind in the heights.
And Peeder Jigson felt the first gnawing seeds of doubt in his belly. He began to feel that he had betrayed this good folk. he didnt like feeling guilty, it gave him gas.
He realized the Dwarves were fastidious and tidy, they scurried around putting everything away as neat as neat, they were well mannered at mealtimes, and disliked mess or plate dropping. Peeder began to hate himself for what he had done, and it made his tummy ache with trapped wind.

Very Crabbit Figg!
I'm really enjoying the idea of putting this PJ fellow into a real Middle Earth, which is why Thorin's anachronistic criticism of PJ as looking more like a "fat cat company executive" struck me as inconsistent. Better to strike it out and replace it with something more dwarven please!

cheers Forest    erm how about 'puffed up mediocre flim flam merchant' ? but feel free to suggest something   

Very nice Mrs Figg! I just got round to this.

Do you plan to make poor Peeder a penitent? If so, you might be asking a lot of certain readers with respect to believing in the Secondary World. Grey Unihorns yes, but not Sir Peeder Penitent!



But more in any case!

  thanks Elthir. I plan to make him a very penitent Hobbit

LOL, then I shall reserve judgement untill I see this penitent Peeder in context. If he notices that Hobbit feet are not so huge as he once imagined I will be pleased.

Loved the grey horses sprinkled in of course. Really there can't be enough of them but I understand that less is sometimes more.

 

Peeder's stomach gave a gurgle and he let out a not too fragrant burp.
Kili looked up and shook his long black beard in disgust. The Dwarves found things like that very ill mannered indeed. They were all very well brought up by their formidable mothers. Boots had to be taken off at the door and cloaks put neatly on pegs, not thrown any old how.
They all thought Peeder was a bit of a barbarian and winced when he chewed on carrots with his mouth open.
It was dusk, the sky had turned a pale blue tinged with yellow and pink clouds, shadows were gathering in the hollows and dells. They were camped out in a rocky hilly place, sparsely covered with evergreen trees and mirtle bushes.
Gandalf stood gazing into the distance, he was silent for a while and then turned to the company.
''I'll be off then'' he said ''Going to look around, see whats ahead''.
Peeder remembered vaguely what was about to happen, he had spent the last two years on this god awful stuff, but he hadnt actually read the book since he was a kid, his wife had given him a brief outline and told him to just go off and play with his toys while she moulded it into something spectacular!. His wife could write better than Tolkien and weed out all the irritating, superflous talking animals.

Talking animals reference: so true!
I like how this story is really rude to Peter Jackson and Co., yet still feels justified!

thanks Forest, I dont like to be rude normally, (well except to Petty   ) and I am not normally a scathing and bitter person, but PJ has really ticked me off, this is my way of letting go of the anger.

Peeder realized this was a golden opportunity to get even with the Dwarves for being such a profoundly poetic and noble a race, and Gandalf for being so wise and bloody wizardly. He knew vaguely from the story that this was Trollshaws and there was a good chance these buggers would get eaten if he played his cards right.
It was Balin who spotted the flickering lights between the distant trees. They were all very hungry as their rations had begun to get low, and it was Peeders job as the burglar to sneak up to the fire to see what was what. Obviously Peeder had no intention of exchanging humorous banter with large scary creatures so he decided to put his dastardly plan into action. he was going to entice the Dwarves into the firelight and let the Trolls get a free dinner, he didnt care.
One by one the Dwarves were captured screaming and kicking in fear. Peeder chuckled to himself, 'this Revenge was so so sweet'.
Then he heard Balins terrified old voice and it stuck cold knives of regret into his shallow heart.
''run Peeder run! cried Balin, 'save yourself Peeder!''
Peeder has hiding in the bushes and had the grace to blush in angry remorse.
''damn and blast these people, how can I let them die?' he howled.
Suddenly there was a cracking splintering noise, the sun burst from over the hillside, and the Trolls turned to stone.
Gandalf frowned down on Peeder.
''I smell a rat, I smelled this fell rat from far far away, so smelly that I came back and what do I find? Dwarves in a sack and Peeder in a bush, my my my'' he wagged his long grey beard sadly.
Peeder decided to make up for trying to get everyone killed, and he led them to the troll hole where they found all manner of goodies including Gondolian swords and biscuits.

... including Gondolian swords and biscuits.

And biscuits... LOL. MMM, I love runic biscuits!

The Talking Bird was a bit of a shocker for Peeder.
He had been slumbering under a low branched tree while the Dwarves had been making breakfast. Glints of sunbeams made a mosaic on his cloak, he was feeling quite mellow just lying there listening to the sizzle of bacon on the fire.
He looked up and there was a huge old grey-headed bird looking down on him.
''dont you dare shit on my head birdie'' he grumbled.
The bird fluffed up its remaining feathers in outrage and hopped down to meet Peeder eye to beak.
''I am Roac, Son of Carc, Grandson of Boarc the Mighty, Messenger to the King of Eagles, and Defender of Eggs.  HOW DARE you insult my noble race! croaked the bird haughtily.
Peeder goggled at the beady eyed creature.
''er sorry Mr Raven, I am sure you are a very clean bird, yes erm sorry'' said Peeder trying to shuffle his bottom away from the sharp beak.
''WE do not poo on Hobbits heads, neither do we nest in Hobbit hair, we have better things to do, dont you know'' said the bird slightly mollified, but not much.
''oh I am sure you do... Do all birds talk here? said Peeder curiously.
''No of course not you ignorant Hobbit, you dont belong here, your aura is blocked, your id is bunged up and your Chi is definately constipated'' said the wise Raven.
''ooh get you!  you.. you.. Feathered Freak! said Peeder getting angry.
The Raven giggled a croaky giggle and swept off, smacking Peeder in the chops with a dusty tail feather.

'' I have had about as much as I can take of these blethering beaked bald Eagles'' cried Peeder. He hopped from foot to foot and did a little war dance in his socks.
The Dwarves rolled their eyes and Gandalf quickly hid a smile.
They were entering a wooded realm after days of rocky high ground and scrubby bushes. The trees had silvery bark and dense deep green leaves, swaying slender and graceful in the soft breeze. The distant tap tap of woodpeckers, the buzz of many busy insects. There were many ravines and hidden dells which would suddenly open up before them at the end of the woodland path. Sometimes the dells were very deep with gurgling brooks flowing over hidden rocks in the shadowy depths . Sometimes they were just shallow bowls filled with wild flowers and bees. After some time during the late afternoon there was a lazy golden hush over the forest they suddenly came to the end of the white chalk path, and there before them lay a vast hidden valley stretching far away into the distance. It was steep sided with many terraces, sparkling waterfalls, and fair buildings. The Dwarves heard the sound of sweet music and laughter all around them but could see not a soul. They were all overcome with gladness and joy at such beauty, even Peeder had to stop himself from skipping gleefully down the path towards the velvet greensward and silver river at the foot of the valley. They walked wide eyed and trembling on the lawn strewn with tiny fragrant White flowers, before them stood a host of Elves.
The Elves surrounded the company, they smiled and greeted their guests, one of the younger Elves whisked off Balins hood and another plonked it back on his head before poor old Balin had time to turn round. Everyone laughed, including Thorin Oakenshield, for he was filled with wonder and joy. Many tra-la-lally songs were sung and epic poems read, even though the company were hungry and weary, they could not tear themselves away from the Elves.
Peeder was annoyed, he expected the Elves to at least have the decency to surfboard on the Dwarves heads and somersault in physics and gravity defying leaps up to the Last Homely House.
They walked.