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garden-ghoul · 7 years ago

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fellowship of the bloggening, part 5

“I think Frodo is going to get stabbed”

A KNIFE IN THE DARK

ooohohoo I wrote that blurb before I even looked to remember what the chapter title was. Fate. So we rejoin Freder... Frickerick... Fredericton... Fredegar! Mr Fredegar Bolger, who wakes and finds a thin, menacing voice at his door telling him to “Open up, in the name of Mordor!” Sorry that’s really dorky. Anyway Fredegar books it like a mile to the nearest house and lies on the floor wheezing “I don’t have it!” until people figure out someone’s after him and sound the alarm. The Nazgul leave Buckland; “Sauron will sort out the little folk later.” Holy shit.

That same night, Frodo wakes and finds Strider looking curiously alert in the corner of the room. Does he... sleep? Do Dunedain not have to sleep? Or has he trained himself to not sleep because The Enemy is constantly setting traps for him? Anyway they all get up and go check on their room (I guess they are sleeping in Strider’s room) and yep, someone has definitely been there trying to murder them. Also, their ponies are gone, and since as Strider says they can’t count on getting anything to eat between here and Rivendell (??? you’re a ranger dude, can’t you HUNT?) they need to find a horse SOMEWHERE to help them carry. I’m hoping Tom Bombadil’s fairy pony is still lurking somewhere. Waiting. just so you all know I picture it as this awful thing.

‘How much are you prepared to carry on your backs?' [asks Strider]

'As much as we must,' said Pippin with a sinking heart, but trying to show that he was tougher than he looked (or felt).

Aw Pippin. Oh, great, the ponies actually did end up following Fatty Lumpkin home, and Tom Bombadil eventually brought them back to the innkeeper, so all’s well that ends well. Meantime our heroes have to make to with a very expensive and unhappy pony sold to them by Bill Ferny, aka that guy who’s probably a spy of The Enemy. And they set off under the eyes of the entire village, since they’ve made such a spectacle of themselves what with Frodo’s vanishing act, everyone’s horses getting stolen, and the mysterious Strider joining their party. Even Bill Ferny comes to sneer at them; Sam hits him in the face with an apple. That’s our Sam!! He’s so petty, I love him. It’s a waste of a good apple, though, he says.

We veer off the road and take a shortcut through a marsh to throw off pursuers. Strider is very good at knowing where to go! He says some paranoid stuff that makes Sam anxious, blah blah, small chance of ever meeting Gandalf on Weathertop Hill, more sheltered approach, blah blah bird spies.

Pippin declared that Frodo was looking twice the hobbit that he had been.

'Very odd,' said Frodo, tightening his belt, 'considering that there is actually a good deal less of me. I hope the thinning process will not go on indefinitely, or I shall become a wraith.'

'Do not speak of such things!' said Strider quickly, and with surprising earnestness.

He is afraid Frodo will Succumb to the Ring and become a Nazgul... He mentions the history of the old fort on Weathertop (Amon Sul) and Sam recites a fragment of a poem about Gil-galad, translated by Bilbo. Apparently in poems whenever you say ‘Mordor’ you have to then remind everyone that it is ‘where the shadows are.’ When you’re not reciting a poem, though, don’t say Mordor! (Strider urges). I don’t know what he thinks is going to happen. The bird spies weren’t paying attention until they heard the name of Mordor but now, oh boy!

An aside, with all this talk of ancient history. I’m wondering why Tolkien decided that all the ancient ancient history should have happened on another part of the world entirely, now sunk under the sea. I think it would be really neat to have, like, 6000 year old ruins/settlements. That sort of Rome feel where you’re going about your business in the city, or taking a train through the countryside, and you pass something so old it would take an archaeologist to guess what it was. And then you pop into the CVS next door or whatever for a pack of gum. Pipeweed. Whatever.

On top of the hill they find evidence of an enormous fire, and a stone that probably has G3 scratched on it in runes, indicating that Gandalf was here on October third. It kind of ruins my immersion that they have October on Middle Earth... Strider comes to the conclusion that Gandalf was attacked here and left in a great hurry. One assumes that he retaliated with fire, since it’s kind of his thing. We spot some Nazgul on the road and decide to hunker down in a cave on the hillside, since moving would only make us more vulnerable and visible. Sam tries to tell more of the lay of Gil-galad, but Strider tells him it’s not the place or time for it (???) and he should wait til they get to Rivendell (???). And so he tells a bit of the Lay of Leithian instead. Interestingly, he doesn’t sing the Lay, but chants it. I’m not sure if lays are supposed to be sung normally and he just doesn’t think much of his voice. That would be cute characterization. He’s kind of shy.

He talks a little about how Luthien was Elrond’s uhh great great grandmother (or whatever, I didn’t count) and absolutely does not mention that he is also descended from her. Frodo thinks his voice sounds rich and deep and I am inferring he also thinks Strider looks very beautiful is he is telling ancient lore that no-one else knows.

But black riders show up, and though Frodo resists he is Compelled to put on the Ring. He sees the Nazgul in great detail, and manages to take the Ring off, get out his sword, and mumble Varda’s Sindarin name as they lunge, before he faints. Good multitasking, Frodo!

FLIGHT TO THE FORD

We learn that the Nazgul have been somewhat driven off NOT by Frodo attempting to stab the Witch King but by him muttering the name of the light Vala. Now they’re lurking. Oh Frodo has a cursed wound now though; the Nazgul are expecting it to incapacitate him completely soon. BUT Strider knows some medicine, slightly magic medicine, which he explains in endearingly complete detail.

Anyway they put Frodo on the pony (who has recovered from Ferny’s ill treatment somewhat!) and run for it. Frodo is stoic in his pain; everyone else is edgy, tired, and miserable. They make it to the bridge over the Hoarwell River, where Strider was expecting to encounter Nazgul. He finds a beryl (also known as an elf-stone, puzzlingly), and takes it as a sign that it’s safe to cross. Maybe some elves are looking out for them? Frodo asks about the ruins they are riding through (destroyed by Angmarians) and Strider tells that he learned a lot of his lore at Rivendell: “I dwelt there once, and still I return when I may.There my heart is; but it is not my fate to sit in peace, even in the fair house of Elrond.” Aw. You got some kind of a prophecy complex there, Strider? Also, even Strider gets lost sometimes, when taking extra sneaky paths to throw off pursuit. Frodo can hardly move but has to walk anyway; our heroes are off-course and nearly out of food. They’re so off-course that they come upon the trolls Bilbo fought during his adventure--I don’t think this will be very important, but it gives a nice sense of continuity, and a reminder that hobbits can go on adventures and come out all right.

Later that day they meet Glorfindel, lately of Rivendell, on the road; turns out he was the one who chased the Nazgul away from the Hoarwell bridge. Elrond has been sending out riders to look for our party. He gives Frodo his horse, for speedy getaways. Frodo, the darling, tries to say he doesn’t want to get away and leave his friends behind, but Glorfindel points out that he’s the only reason they’re in danger, and if he gets away they’ll be safer. Frodo shuts up. They almost manage to reach the ford at Bruinen before the Nazgul come upon them; Frodo rides hell for leather but some of them are lying in wait!

'The Ring! The Ring!' they cried with deadly voices; and immediately their leader urged his horse forward into the water, followed closely by two others.

'By Elbereth and Lúthien the Fair,' said Frodo with a last effort, lifting up his sword, 'you shall have neither the Ring nor me!'

My boy! So the river surges up and carries off the Nazgul (all nine!) while they’re trying to cross (later we learn Elrond has total command over the river; sick). And I realize Arwen isn’t going to be in this at all. It’s weird that they turned Glorfindel into her for the movies.

HEY NOW IT’S TIME FOR BOOK 2! And the first chapter:

MANY MEETINGS

Frodo wakes in a warm comfy bed, and Gandalf is there to tell him what’s going on. Since we already know, I’m omitting most of that, except this part:

'I am glad,' said Frodo. 'For I have become very fond of Strider. Well, fond is not the right word. I mean he is dear to me; though he is strange, and grim at times. In fact, he reminds me often of you. I didn't know that any of the Big People were like that.’

HAH. He is dear to Frodo. They will learn to understand each other. And then they will tenderly hold hands. Anyway Gandalf gives some more exposition, ho hum. Frodo wakes later SO READY for feasting and stories; Sam comes in.

He ran to Frodo and took his left hand, awkwardly and shyly. He stroked it gently and then he blushed and turned hastily away.

`Hullo, Sam!' said Frodo.

`It's warm!' said Sam. `Meaning your hand, Mr. Frodo. It has felt so cold through the long nights. But glory and trumpets!'

Oh noooo that’s super gay. Sam is such a sweetheart, MOSTLY with Frodo. I get the impression he has had a crush for a very long time. Frodo and Sam find their other hobbit pals; Pippin is filled with sass and sarcasm, as usual, and they are both very glad to see Frodo alive and well. And just in time for the feast, too! We go to the feast, and hear a bunch of physical descriptions of the people sitting at the high table with Frodo (Elrond, Glorfindel, Gandalf, and Arwen). We learn, in a kind of ambient information way, that “Elladan and Elrohir were out upon errantry: for they rode often far afield with the Rangers of the North, forgetting never their mother's torment in the dens of the orcs.” Holy shit what? I don’t remember anything about Celebrian getting, uh, kidnapped and tortured?

Frodo is actually sitting next to Gloin, which is cool! He is described as a dwarf of great importance, princely, with white hair. Frodo is very curious to hear any news he can give, and Gloin is happy to get the chance to infodump to such a polite listener! What brings him here is rather grim, though--three of his friends are missing. He declines to say more; I expect we’ll learn of it during the council. After eating everyone goes to the fire/storytelling hall, where Bilbo is huddled up real small composing a song (apparently Aragorn sometimes helps him compose songs, very cute). After a while Bilbo sings the song they were coming up with (it’s about Earendil) and then gets indignant when the elves can’t tell whose parts are whose. “Sheep look different to other sheep!” they say. Rather insulting, although I’m sure elves never mean to be especially condescending.

And now, because I am very curious and haven’t totally worn myself out for the day, let’s read

THE COUNCIL OF ELROND

There are lots of weird people at the council! Representatives from several elf settlements as well as Gloin and his son Gimli, and Boromir who is simply from “the South.” The first news we hear is of what happened to Balin, Ori, and Oin--they took a party of dwarves and went to try to reclaim Moria, feeling that they were very prosperous where they were in Erebor. AND that messengers from Sauron came, asking for the friendship of the dwarves (offering rings of power), and their help catching a certain thief. They fear war on their eastern border, and that the human king nearby might yield to Sauron’s wishes; so they have come to seek advice, and to warn Bilbo.

Next Elrond tells the history of the Ring... “but since that history is elsewhere recounted, even as Elrond himself set it down in his books of lore, it is not here recalled.” A few things of interest: we used to have Minas Ithil and Minas Anor, yes--Minas Ithil was taken and became Minas Morgul, the tower of sorcery. Minas Anor became Minas Tirith (II), the tower of guard. I don’t think they mentioned that in any of the third-age supplementals. Boromir is sort of indignant at the implication that Gondor’s strength and splendor are waning; he would like everyone to know that Gondor is the chiefest bulwark against Sauron in the south, thank you very much! Also he says that his brother had a prophetic poem dream that said to go find Elrond at Imladris and seek advice. Because it was too dangerous for his brother and he wanted to protect him, Boromir came on his own, a journey of almost four months! Brother mentions in his speech: 3. Bilbo gets defensive on Aragorn’s behalf and recites his own poem (“all that is gold does not glitter...”). It’s like a really low-key rap battle. Aw and Aragorn is down on his appearance again, he says he doesn’t look much like the beautiful statues of Isildur and Elendil. Darling we’ve got to do something about that low self-esteem.

Gandalf then tells of his quest to figure out what ring Bilbo truly had. Secret library science! The most thrilling kind of quest! Aragorn puts in a bit about how he found Gollum and brought him to Mirkwood so Gandalf could question him, and the Mirkwood elves hold him... which leads us to Legolas’ reason for being here--Gollum has escaped!

‘We had not the heart to keep him ever in dungeons under the earth, where he would fall back into his old black thoughts.'

'You were less tender to me,' said Glóin with a flash of his eyes.

They kept bringing him outside to climb trees, so he could get a little exercise, that’s so good of them. BUT he was better at climbing than elves, oops. So while they were waiting for him to come down his guards were attacked by orcs, and when the battle was over he was gone! Meanwhile, Gandalf was sent for by Saruman, via their fellow wizard Radagast the Brown. He goes to Orthanc and is immediately greeted with great rudeness and contempt by Saruman.

'I looked then and saw that his robes, which had seemed white, were not so, but were woven of all colours. and if he moved they shimmered and changed hue so that the eye was bewildered.

' "I liked white better," I said.

Lmao nice Gandalf. Anyway they stick him on top of the tower, and he realizes only now that Isengard is full of wolves and orcs and nasty smoke. Really, dude? Thankfully Radagast is still sending messengers to Orthanc with news; one of them is Gwaihir the current king of eagles, who is able to bear Gandalf away. I love how extra that is, sending the king of eagles as a courier to tell someone the Nine are riding around the Shire. Gwaihir takes Gandalf to Rohan (which apparently pays a yearly tribute of horses to Mordor!), where he finds that “the lies of Saruman are already at work.” The king still tells him to take a horse, though he wants nothing to do with Gandalf; this is how Gandalf gets Shadowfax, a horse with chameleon abilities who is also very fast. Boromir very much doubts that the Rohirrim would buy their lives with horses, but Gandalf and Aragorn sort of condescendingly tell him not to be so sure. It’s interesting how Tolkien is setting up Boromir as this naive guy who thinks his kingdom is the only one helping people and that things are still going well. This in contrast to Gandalf and Aragorn, who find the current situation extremely dire.

I also want to talk about Elrond’s editorial comment on Saruman: “It is perilous to study too deeply the arts of the Enemy, for good or for ill.” Once again, even having knowledge of how Sauron works is corrupting. I’m not sure if this is a thing Sauron does by magic, or if Tolkien is suggesting that knowledge and study are inherently a corrupting force! We can see it parallels the way Sauron traditionally swayed people to his side--through crafting knowledge. But in this case he wasn’t even there to earn Saruman’s trust. Saruman was Too Wise (or really, Too Clever and Not Wise Enough). Tolkien’s bias seems to be toward those who don’t seek knowledge, and rather take action. That’s a little simplified but it’s the best I can do right now, since I’m a little fatigued from spending like 3 hours on this liveblog. We’ll be done soon.

Now we are discussing what is to be done with the Ring; Glorfindel briefly suggests giving it to Tom Bombadil, since his domain is impenetrable and the Ring has no effect on him. But he doesn’t care about it, and he’d just lose it. I love that this is a solution they considered. Elrond eventually decides that they have to either destroy it or send it to Aman--and Valinor will not have a piece of evil that belongs to Middle Earth. Boromir, naturally, wants to use it, but in the end they decide they’ll have to cast it into Mount Doom. Bilbo volunteers (we all know why) and is shot down. Frodo volunteers, and Elrond says to him,

'I think that this task is appointed for you, Frodo; and that if you do not find a way, no one will. This is the hour of the Shire-folk, when they arise from their quiet fields to shake the towers and counsels of the Great.’

I like this image a lot.

#blog of the rings #heads up this is a long one

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morelovelyandmoretemperate · 8 years ago

Note

All from A to Z :)

Oh my Lanta. Really? I mean, I’ll do it, but wowza. Thank you, anon. :D

A - Ships that you currently like a lot. (They don’t have to be OTPs because not everyone has OTPs.) Friendships, pairings, threesomes, etc. are allowed.

I’m not honestly a huge shipper. I prefer bromance to romance... if I HAD to pick a ship or two? Demitri/Anastasia from “Anastasia”, and Mr. Darcy/Elizabeth Bennet from “Pride and Prejudice”. Always get me every time.

B - A pairing–platonic, romantic or sexual–that you initially didn’t consider, but someone changed your mind.

Mmm... Spirk (Star Trek) and McKirk (Star Trek). Damnit, I didn’t want to get sucked into this hell hole, but here I am.

C - A ship you have never liked and probably never will.

Sherlock/Anyone. I just don’t see romantic relationships there. I mean I can see how people get the Johnlock thing going, but honestly... I don’t ship him with anyone. Again, bromance before romance for this one.

D - A pairing you wish you liked but just can’t.

Dean Winchester/Lisa (Supernatural). But that might be because that storyline was pretty weak.

E - Have you added anything cracky/hilarious to your fandom? If so, what?

Some of you may well remember that there is a little known one-shot lurking out there inspired by @faragonart‘s Hiccup in Aperture Science drawings from... Jeez, like a year and a half ago? Not sure. But it’s out there. It’s cracky as hell.

F - What’s the longest you’ve ever been in a fandom?

Been in the Teen Titans fandom for... jeez uh... 13 years? Harry Potter is closely behind at 12.

G - Have you ever had an OTP? If so, do you remember your first one? Who was in it?

Again, not super shippy. When I was a wee tot I adored Robin/Starfire on Teen Titans, but the older I got the more I was like “I just don’t see it.” I do love me some Harry/Ginny (Harry Potter).

H - What is your favorite source text for fandom stuff (e.g., TV shows, movies, books, anime, Western animation, etc.)?

Usually tv shows. Almost always. Sometimes movies. Rarely books.

I - Has Tumblr caused you to stop liking any fandoms, if so, which and why?

Tumblr has turned me off of so many fandoms before I ever even saw the show, because I was sick of it before I ever got a chance to enjoy it, including but not limited to: Steven Universe, Gravity Falls, Voltron, Troll Hunters, Hannibal, etc.

J - Name a fandom you didn’t think about until you saw it all over Tumblr. (You don’t have to care about it or follow it; it just has to be something that Tumblr made you aware of.)

Supernatural. Honestly had no idea what it even was before I saw it on here, and then of course I got obsessed.

K - What character has your favorite development arc/the best development arc?

Ooohhh. Sherlock is one of my faves, just watching him become more.. human, is great. Jesse Pinkman and Walter White (Breaking Bad)... there are so MANY.

L - Say something genuinely nice about a character who isn’t one of your faves. (Characters you’re neutral about are fair game, as are characters you merely dislike. Characters that you absolutely loathe with the fire of ten thousand suns are exempt, as there is no point in giving yourself an aneurysm over a character that you hate.)

John Winchester has a pleasant sounding voice when he isn’t screaming at his children? Does that count?

M - Name a character that you’d like to have for a friend.

Lorelai Gilmore (Gilmore Girls). I want to be her.

N - Name three things you wish you saw more or in your main fandom (or a fandom of choice).

Jesse Pinkman character analysis and canon compliant Harry Potter learning to deal with his upbringing.

O - Choose a song at random. Which ship or character does it remind you of?

“Reflecting Light” by Sam Phillips- Luke/Lorelai (Gilmore Girls)

P - Invent a random AU for any fandom (we always need more ideas).

I actually developed a relatively in depth baby bots AU for Portal in one of @faragonart‘s streams. The idea was more or less that in an effort to tame Glad0s, they scientists desperately tried to bring the human part of her (whatever was left of Caroline) back into control by appealing to her maternal instinct with android baby bots, creating first Virgil (who was too soft spoken and non-assertive, and brushed aside before being reassigned to maintenance) then Wheatley (who was too curious and outgoing, and caused her to become increasingly hostile against him to the point that his memory of it was wiped, and he was left with nothing more than an inherent fear of her), and finally having no choice but to bring in Caroline’s actual daughter: Chel. If anyone wants more than that, I have it all written down somewhere and I’ll hunt it down and share.

Q - A fandom you’ve abandoned and why.

Ooooh. LOST. Too weird, my dudes. Far too weird. And Grey’s Anatomy.

R - Which friendship/platonic relationship is your favorite in fandom?

Merlin/Arthur, Sherlock/John, Harry/Hermione, this is a looong list.

S - Show us an example of your personal headcanon (prompts optional but encouraged)

Hmm... alright, so @orhowfar and I were watching Anastasia a few weeks back and I went dark af and just proclaimed that I think Dimitri was abused by the staff of the palace. He very clearly gets manhandled rather aggressively on a fairly frequent basis, and his self esteem is virtually nothing. So we came up with this whole big thing where his favorite of the nobility was always Vlad, who had kind eyes and a big belly and would sneak him sweets when he assisted, and after helping the princess escape and being knocked unconscious (by a blow to the head from a gun which 100% broke his nose btw have you ever noticed?) He finds himself with nowhere to go. He runs into Vlad and there’s a moment of pure panic because Vlad knows how bad things are right then, but they both just nod, and wind up taking care of each other. Vlad becomes something of a father figure to Dimitri. He notices pretty early on that Dimitri doesn’t like contact unless he’s initiated it, something that carries over into adulthood, despite his best efforts, but it does get better. Vlad just makes sure to let Dimitri come to him as often as possible instead of reaching out first. Etc. etc. it was a LONG thing.

T - Do you have any hard and fast headcanons that you will die defending?

Hiccup’s hair looks the way it does because he won’t sit still for a haircut- he’s always off doing something or other- so his father will just randomly grab a handful of his hair and slice through it with his knife to keep it manageable. Hiccup barely notices until after Stoick’s death when his hair is suddenly longer than it’s been in years and then he remembers and ouch.

U - Three favorite characters from three different fandoms, and why they’re your favorites.

Merlin- self sacrificing, intelligent, lovable little dork with immense power.

Dean Winchester- self sacrificing, intelligent, lovable little dork with virtually no self esteem or self preservation skills.

Jesse Pinkman- self sacrificing, intelligent, lovable little dork with virtually no self esteem or self preservation skills who is far too broken and has seen far too much but is desperate for love.

V - Which character do you relate to most?

It varies... I related to Jesse Pinkman more than I probably should have but... given current circumstances.. yeah. I understand Lorelai Gilmore on a spiritual level as well.

W - A trope which you are virtually certain to hate in any fandom.

“Bad guy is reformed and becomes besties with the gang”. Get away from meeeeeeeee.

X - A trope which you are almost certain to love in any fandom.

One character slowly humanizes another through little acts of affection and teaching and both learn from the other and become best friends in the process.

Y - What are your secondhand fandoms (i.e., fandoms you aren’t in personally but are tangentially familiar with because your friends/people on your dash are in them)?

Hmmm... does The Office count? I see a lot of The Office second hand.

Z - Just ramble about something fan-related, go go go! (Prompts optional but encouraged.)

They have never once cast a decent Dick Grayson (Batman) and let me tell you why because when a child is of Romani descent they are not some little pale white boy with dark hair. They have a very specific look and I have yet to see it. Not to mention they never pick the right body type. Dick is an acrobat first and foremost; he just learned to adapt that into a fighting style. He would not be some top heavy bulky af ripped dude with giant shoulders and biceps and thighs as wide as a tire, he’d be lean and wiry and small. He needs to be fast, be able to get and keep himself airborne, and fold into all sorts of weird shapes (the kid is basically a damn contortionist). He’s strong as hell, but it’s not just big ass muscles, it’s... *deep breath* he’s not the body type they keep casting. Furthermore, that kid is definitely his own special brand of damaged and I get very tired of seeing the “so sarcastic and carefree” attitude given to him in movies and tv shows, but I also can’t stand the other extreme: the cold, clinical, calculating, trying to be Batman nonsense. That’s not who he is. He’s smart and capable, and certainly can be serious, he’s been playing a part in public for most of his life, just as Bruce does, but he’s also very careful not to become what Bruce has... I could go on about this for a long time... @cinemamind, help me?

Thanks for the request, anon, sorry this is SO long...

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readbookywooks · 8 years ago

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Rincewind wasn’t about to trust what a hat said.

‘We need something to shut the lid,’ he muttered. ‘A knife or something. You wouldn’t have one, would you?’

‘Look the other way,’ Conina warned.

There was a rustle and another gust of perfume.

‘You can look back now.’

Rincewind was handed a twelve-inch throwing knife. He took it gingerly. Little particles of metal glinted on its edge.

‘Thanks.’ He turned back. ‘Not leaving you short, am I?’

‘I have others.’

‘I’ll bet.’

Rincewind reached out gingerly with the knife. As it neared the leather box its blade went white and started to steam. He whimpered a little as the cold struck his hand - a burning, stabbing cold, a cold that crept up his arm and made a determined assault on his mind. He forced his numb fingers into action and, with great effort, nudged the edge of the lid with the tip of the blade.

The glow faded. The snow became sleet, then melted into drizzle.

Conina nudged him aside and pulled the box out of the frozen arms.

‘I wish there was something we could do for him. It seems wrong just to leave him here.’

‘He won’t mind,’ said Rincewind, with conviction.

‘Yes, but we could at least lean him against the wall. Or something.’

Rincewind nodded, and grabbed the frozen thief by his icicle arm. The man slipped out of his grasp and hit the cobbles.

Where he shattered.

Conina looked at the pieces.

‘Urg,’ she said.

There was a disturbance further up the alley, coming from the back door of the Troll’s Head. Rincewind felt the knife snatched from his hand and then go past his ear in a flat trajectory that ended in the doorpost twenty yards away. A head that had been sticking out withdrew hurriedly.

‘We’d better go,’ said Conina, hurrying along the alley. ‘Is there somewhere we can hide? Your place?’

‘I generally sleep at the University,’ said Rincewind, hopping along behind her.

You must not return to the University, growled the hat from the depths of its box. Rincewind nodded distractedly. The idea certainly didn’t seem attractive.

‘Anyway, they don’t allow women inside after dark,’ he said.

‘And before dark?’

‘Not then, either.’

Conina sighed. ‘That’s silly. What have you wizards got against women, then?’

Rincewind’s brow wrinkled. ‘We’re not supposed to put anything against women,’ he said. ‘That’s the whole point.’

Sinister grey mists rolled through the docks of Morpork, dripping from the rigging, coiling around the drunken rooftops, lurking in alleys. The docks at night were thought by some to be even more dangerous than the Shades. Two muggers, a sneak thief and someone who had merely tapped Conina on the shoulder to ask her the time had already found this out.

‘Do you mind if I ask you a question?’ said Rincewind, stepping over the luckless pedestrian who lay coiled around his private pain.

Well?’

‘I mean, I wouldn’t like to cause offence.’

Well?’

‘It’s just that I can’t help noticing-’

‘Hmmm?’

‘You have this certain way with strangers.’ Rincewind ducked, but nothing happened.

What are you doing down there?’ said Conina, testily.

,Sorry.,

‘I know what you’re thinking. I can’t help it, I take after my father.’

Who was he, then? Cohen the Barbarian?’ Rincewind grinned to show it was a joke. At least, his lips moved in a desperate crescent.

‘No need to laugh about it, wizard.’

‘What?’

‘It’s not my fault.’

Rincewind’s lips moved soundlessly. ‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘Have I got this right? Your father really is Cohen the Barbarian?’

‘Yes.’ The girl scowled at Rincewind. ‘Everyone has to have a father,’ she added. ‘Even you, I imagine.’

She peered around a corner.

‘All clear. Come on,’ she said, and then when they were striding along the damp cobbles she continued: ‘I expect your father was a wizard, probably.’

‘I shouldn’t think so,’ said Rincewind. ‘Wizardry isn’t allowed to run in families.’ He paused. He knew Cohen, he’d even been a guest at one of his weddings when he married a girl of Conina’s age; you could say this about Cohen, he crammed every hour full of minutes. ‘A lot of people would like to take after Cohen, I mean, he was the best fighter, the greatest thief, he-’

‘A lot of men would,’ Conina snapped. She leaned against a wall and glared at him.

‘Listen,’ she said, ‘There’s this long word, see, an old witch told me about it …can’t remember it …you wizards know about long words.’

Rincewind thought about long words. ‘Marmalade?’ he volunteered.

She shook her head irritably. ‘It means you take after your parents.’

Rincewind frowned. He wasn’t too good on the subject of parents.

‘Kleptomania? Recidivist?’ he hazarded.

‘Begins with an H.’

‘Hedonism?’ said Rincewind desperately.

‘Herrydeterry,’ said Conina. ‘This witch explained it to me. My mother was a temple dancer for some mad god or other, and father rescued her, and - they stayed together for a while. They say I get my looks and figure from her.’

‘And very good they are, too,’ said Rincewind, with hopeless gallantry.

She blushed. ‘Yes, well, but from him I got sinews you could moor a boat with, reflexes like a snake on a hot tin, a terrible urge to steal things and this dreadful sensation every time I meet someone that I should be throwing a knife through his eye at ninety feet. I can, too,’ she added with a trace of pride.

‘Gosh.’

‘It tends to put men off.’

Well, it would,’ said Rincewind weakly.

‘I mean, when they find out, it’s very hard to hang on to a boyfriend.’

‘Except by the throat, I imagine,’ said Rincewind.

‘Not what you really need to build up a proper relationship.’

‘No. I can see,’ said Rincewind. ‘Still, pretty good if you want to be a famous barbarian thief.’

But not,’ said Conina, ‘if you want to be a hairdresser.’

‘Ah.’

They stared into the mist.

‘Really a hairdresser?’ said Rincewind.

Conina sighed.

‘Not much call for a barbarian hairdresser, I expect,’ said Rincewind. ‘I mean, no-one wants a shampoo-and-beheading.’

‘It’s just that every time I see a manicure set I get this terrible urge to lay about me with a double-handed cuticle knife. I mean sword,’ said Conina.

Rincewind sighed. ‘I know how it is,’ he said. ‘I wanted to be a wizard.’

‘But you are a wizard.’

‘Ah. Well, of course, but-’

‘Quiet!’

Rincewind found himself rammed against the wall, where a trickle of condensed mist inexplicably began to drip down his neck. A broad throwing knife had mysteriously appeared in Conina’s hand, and she was crouched like a jungle animal or, even worse, a jungle human.

‘What-’ Rincewind began.

‘Shut up!’ she hissed. ‘Something’s coming!’

She stood up in one fluid movement, spun on one leg and let the knife go.

There was a single, hollow, wooden thud.

Conina stood and stared. For once, the heroic blood that pounded through her veins, drowning out all chances of a lifetime in a pink pinny, was totally at a loss.

‘I’ve just killed a wooden box,’ she said.

Rincewind looked round the corner.

The Luggage stood in the dripping street, the knife still quivering in its lid, and stared at her. Then it changed its position slightly, its little legs moving in a complicated tango pattern, and stared at Rincewind. The Luggage didn’t have any features at all, apart from a lock and a couple of hinges, but it could stare better than a rockful of iguanas. It could outstare a glass-eyed statue. When it came to a look of betrayed pathos, the Luggage could leave the average kicked spaniel moping back in its kennel. It had several arrowheads and broken swords sticking in it.

‘What is it?’ hissed Conina.

‘It’s just the Luggage,’ said Rincewind wearily.

‘Does it belong to you?’

‘Not really. Sort of.’

‘Is it dangerous?’

The Luggage shuffled round to stare at her again.

‘There’s two schools of thought about that,’ said Rincewind. ‘There’s some people who say it’s dangerous, and others who say it’s very dangerous. What do you think?’

The Luggage raised its lid a fraction.

The Luggage was made from the wood of the sapient peartree, a plant so magical that it had nearly died out on the Disc and survived only in one or two places; it was a sort of rosebay willowherb, only instead of bomb sites it sprouted in areas that had seen vast expenditures of magic. Wizards’ staves were traditionally made of it; so was the Luggage.

Among the Luggage’s magical qualities was a fairly simple and direct one: it would follow its adopted owner anywhere. Not anywhere in any particular set of dimensions, or country, or universe, or lifetime. Anywhere. It was about as easy to shake off as a head cold and considerably more unpleasant.

The Luggage was also extremely protective of its owner. It would be hard to describe its attitude to the rest of creation, but one could start with the phrase ‘bloody-minded malevolence’ and work up from there.

Conina stared at that lid. It looked very much like a mouth.

‘I think I’d vote for “terminally dangerous”,’ she said.

‘It likes crisps,’ volunteered Rincewind, and then added, ‘Well, that’s a bit strong. It eats crisps.’

‘What about people?’

‘Oh, and people. About fifteen so far; I think.’

‘Were they good or bad?’

‘Just dead, I think. It also does your laundry for you, you put your clothes in and they come out washed and ironed.’

‘And covered in blood?’

‘You know, that’s the funny thing,’ said Rincewind.

‘The funny thing?’ repeated Conina, her eyes not leaving the Luggage.

‘Yes, because, you see, the inside isn’t always the same, it’s sort of multidimensional, and-’

‘How does it feel about women?’

‘Oh, it’s not choosy. It ate a book of spells last year. Sulked for three days and then spat it out.’

‘It’s horrible,’ said Conina, and backed away.

‘Oh, yes,’ said Rincewind, ‘absolutely.’

‘I mean the way it stares!’

‘It’s very good at it, isn’t it?’

We must leave for Klatch, said a voice from the hatbox. One of these boats will be adequate. Commandeer it.

Rincewind looked at the dim, mist-wreathed shapes that loomed in the mist under a forest of rigging. Here and there a riding light made a little fuzzy ball of light in the gloom.

#Sourcery

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