[Rimbaud]

Yet the sound of Lord Celery’s nasal voice brought her reluctantly back to her senses. She felt decidedly befuddled. She wished brave, strong Halfie, he of the catastrophically awe-inspiring hair-cut and only marginally poorer manicure, would be there to comfort her, but currently he appeared to be employed as an inspector of the waiting staff, who were lined before him, ears pricked, as he looked them over.

“I did not know your flight was so evil,” said Celery. “Let you all forget my poor welcome; I spoke having just returned from The White Hart (a fine establishment). I will do what I can to aid you, each according to his wish and need, but especially those of the folk who carry the biggest burdens.”

His eye roamed from the fair Merisuwyniel to the strappingly strapping Lord Gormlessar as he said this last.

“Your thirst is known to us,” said Saladriel, looking at Etceteron. “But we will not speak of it more openly. Yet not in vain will it prove, maybe, that you came to this mall seeking maids, as Pettygast himself plainly purposed.” A resigned look of eye-rolling proportions came over here, and her tone became droll. “For the Lord Celery is accounted the wisest of the Elves of Muddle-Mud, and a giver of fabulous gift certificates beyond the power of Fifth Avenue or Oxford Street.” Seeing that Celery had abruptly fallen asleep (a little known condition of the altitude and homogenous diet of lembas was a disproportionate affliction of narcolepsy) and was drooling listlessly upon Merisuwyniel’s leg, she gave up the droll tone and spake fiercely. “He has dwelt here for bloody ages, and I have dwelt with him years uncounted ; for ere the fall of Nogarter-on or Grindulin I passed out at the wedding, and together through the ages of the world I have fought the long defeat of the reluctant bride.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

That night the non-gender specific Questors slept in comfortable beds, separately, much to the dissatisfaction of Halfullion. The Elves spread for them a large amount of jam upon toast near the kitchen, and in it they laid sweet lembas; then speaking words of really poor quality pop songs they left them.