Arwen looked out over the snowy fields of Alberta and smiled to herself as she saw the sun rising and RCMP cleaners piling the dead US Marines into small heaps, dousing them in maple syrup and setting them alight. Pleasantly-scented smoke rose and drifted across the wide open space through the crisp, clean air. She inhaled, inflating her chest in an attempt to usurp Miruimor's position as the story's sex appeal, but failing as most people were just too afraid of her and said, "Ah! I love the smell of maple-syrup in the morning - it smells like . . ."
"Breakfast!" called Darknight from the veranda. Arwen turned to see Darknight putting the finishing touches to a vast spread on a large wooden table - pancakes with maple syrup, bacon, eggs (scrambled, boiled and fried), sausages, mushrooms, toast, fried bread, black pudding, waffles, cereals, tea, coffee, hot chocolate, croissants, brioches, French bread, herby fried potatoes, grilled tomatoes, kippers and porridge. Arwen scurried over and accepted an omelette and a huge mug of steaming coffee with a kick like a Galloway bullock. Legomyfrodo was already tucking into a massive plate of sweet samosas and drinking a glass of lassie.
"Did you know the word veranda is Indian?" she asked. Darknight nodded, his mouth full of sausage and egg.
"Yeah," he grunted. "Guys!" he yelled to KL and Bruenor - who were walking below them counting the posts they had made the day before, "Breakfast!"
"Forty two!" cried Bruenor, doing a little victory jig. KL's eyes narrowed.
<POST>
"Forty three!" he cried, "And that last one of yours was Spam!" Bruenor was not happy.
"It's only Spam because you altered your previous post so mine was complete gibberish!" he screamed.
"Breakfast!" yelled Darknight. The two of them got the hint and marched up the steps to the battlements and joined the Catholic and the two girls.
The five of them were the only ones up at dawn - everyone else was too hungover. However, Arwen had spent most of her night holding Miruimor's hair out of the toilet (and Miruimor out of the toilet . . .) and so hadn't had time for drinking, Legomyfrodo had stuck to the lassie, KL had been too busy "spinnin' 'ardcore on da decks - boo yakka boo yakka!" to get any serious drinking done, and Bruenor had stuck to the Worcester Sauce. Although this had made the whites of his eyes go brown, he was still conscious.
Darknight - being at least one and a half times as old as them and having been at University - had years of drinking experience behind him and - apart from a few shadows under his dark eyes - looked as fresh as a daisy. Bruenor raked vast quantities of meat-based products onto his plate, doused them with Worcester Sauce, and began to eat. KingLegolas addressed a croissant with some heather honey and an introspective air.
"Nice grub, DK," grunted Bruenor, belching loudly. Arwen cuffed him. "Didn't know you could cook." The bachelor shrugged.
"Had to learn," he said shortly, "I've lived in places where there were no women, so I had to do all those girly things myself." Legomyfrodo and Arwen looked about, saw Miruimor wasn't there, and then said, "PIG!" together.
"Where is she?" asked KingLegolas.
"Still in bed, I hope," said Darknight, "If she gets up she'll disturb the saline drip." He turned to Bruenor meaningfully, "One more stunt like that and I use your nose for target practice." Bruenor hid behind his waffle. Darknight turned to Arwen, "Well, what's the plan?"
Arwen swallowed the last of her pancakes and pulled her chocolate closer. "Right, eh?" she said, breaking off a chunk of French bread and dunking it, "We're going to go pay a visit to Saruman8, to see what state "O'Dark Tower" is in after Nebbin has had a go at it, eh?" Legomyfrodo looked up from her pakora.
"Has Nebbin had a go at it?" she asked, looking back over the previous Chapters, "The author hasn't mentioned it!"
"That's because he didn't know exactly what he was going to do, but now he's thought of something, eh?" said Arwen. Legomyfrodo nodded and began to look towards the other future Chapters. Arwen's hockey stick slammed the book shut. "Don't look!" she chided, "You'll spoil the surprise!"
"Oh, my head!" came Olorin's voice from the shadows at the back of the veranda.
"Does anyone have any ice?" asked Sarudan in a whisper.
"Morning!" cried Darknight joyfully, "How's things?"
"Who is that horrible man?" whispered Olorin, "Make him stop." Legomyfrodo came forward with two glasses of lassie.
"Drink this," she said helpfully, "It'll calm your stomach - milk and yoghurt in it." She jumped back as the two of them threw up. Elrohir reeled out into the sunshine, wearing a pair of dark glasses and carrying a fizzing glass of Alka-Seltzer.
"Why did someone think it was a funny idea to hold a slam-dancing competition at the base of my skull?" he asked plaintively, sitting upwind of the food, his face turning green. Arwen looked him over.
"You look like something the cat dragged in," she said at length.
"I've seen cat-carrion that looked better," opinioned Bruenor, offering him some Worcester Sauce. Elrohir gulped twice, clamped his hand over his mouth, and dived for the wall. Darknight twisted his face at the hideous retching noise.
"Miruimor not up?" asked Olorin, sipping at a cup of black coffee and wincing as the light caught his eyes. Arwen shrugged, but was saved from having to answer him by the sight of Miruimor - dishevelled, her hair looking like a bird's nest and her make-up smeared all over her face. She had the remnants of last night's costume on her and very little else. Darknight stood up and put his cloak around her.
"Morning," he said quietly, "How you feeling?"
"Sick," she croaked.
"Been sick?" asked DK.
"Yes."
"Feel better?"
"No."
Darknight lead her to the table and poured her some coffee and a glass of orange juice. "Drink these," he said, "The caffeine and electrolytes will do you good." She sipped the coffee.
"God," she rasped, "What did I drink last night?"
"Oh, nothing," said Bruenor quickly, "You must have eaten a bad prawn."
"You don't remember?" asked Arwen.
"I don't remember anything after I inexplicably left the party after Bru gave me a drink - and then I woke up like this." Darknight raised his eyebrows.
"You don't remember Lady Marmalade?" he asked.
"No."
"Dirrty?" She shook her head. "Arwen putting you to bed?"
"No."
"Getting up again and being suggestive with a hockey stick?"
"No."
"Telling everyone you loved them?"
"No . . ."
"Trying to look up the Scotsmen's kilts?"
"No!"
"Ah . . ." said Darknght, "Well, I'm sure no-one noticed." He looked threateningly at a couple of RCMP who quickly shuffled away. They ate breakfast in silence, Olorin, Sarudan and Elrohir recovering gradually. Miruimor winced and held her head in her hands.
"Right," said Arwen, "We'd better set off!" She stood up. Olorin, the Commissioner and Elrohir looked up at her blearily. Miruimor slumped asleep amid the remains of the breakfast.
"Set off? Where?" asked Olorin. Arwen pointed with her hockey stick.
"Yonder, eh?" she said, "lies the Irish-theme Dark Tower of Saruman8 - "O'Dark Tower"! There we must travel and see what we can see!"
"And what will we see?" asked Olorin, trying to mount his horse unsuccessfully.
"What Nebbin has done!" cried Arwen, jumping on her Harley and setting off in a cloud of dust. Bruenor and KL followed on horseback, with Legomyfrodo keeping pace with them on the back of her tiger, while Olorin, Elrohir and Sarudan followed drunkenly behind. Darknight turned to the groaning Miruimor.
"You coming?" he asked. Her head snapped up.
"No!" she said, "I just have a headache."