Concerning Haremites
Chapter 1 - An Unexpected Party
In a forum on the Net there lived a Harem. Not a brainless, silly, fangurl’s
harem, filled with the squeals of the illiterate and endless drooling, nor yet a
dry, bare, academic harem with nothing in it to laugh about or to eat: it was a
hobbit-harem, and that means comfort.
It had a perfectly round orc in a hammock, very green, and a shiny blue-eyed
hobbit in the exact middle. The Harem’s door opened on to a tube-shaped hall
like a tunnel: a very comfortable tunnel without smoke (except occasional
post-coital cigarettes), with shelves full of cheesecake, and floors tiled and
carpeted, provided with sofas for swooning on, and lots and lots of posts for
pics and creative output – the Harem was fond of gabbing. The gabbing went on
and on, going fairly but not quite straight into the middle of the night – on
The Net, as all the people for many miles round called it – and many little
shy lurkers opened up out of it, first on one side and then on another. No
sleeping with Frodo upstairs for the Harem: they had him in bedrooms, bathrooms,
cellars, pantries (lots of these), wardrobes (they had whole rooms devoted to
snogging), kitchens, dining-rooms, all offered a comfortable floor, and indeed
some had beds and baths. The best rooms were all on the right-hand side (going
in), for these were the only ones to not have windows, deep-set round windows
looking over the garden, and meadows beyond, sloping down to the river. (Some
Haremites prefer a little privacy).
This Harem was a very well-to-do harem, and their names were various. The
Haremites have lived in the neighbourhood of The Net for time out of mind, and
people considered them very unrespectable, not only because most of them adored
Frodo, but also because they always had many adventures or did everything
unexpected: but you could tell what a Haremite would say on any question about
Frodo without the bother of asking her. This is a story of how a Harem had an
adventure, and found themselves doing and saying things altogether unexpected.
They may have lost the neighbours’ respect, but they gained – well, you will
see whether they gained anything in the end.
The love-object of our particular harem – what is a Harem? I suppose Haremites
need some description nowadays, since they have become rare and strange to the
Ordinary People, as they call us. They are (or were) a little people, about half
our height, and smaller than the bearded dwarves. Haremites have no beards
(well, not many of them). There is little or no magic about them, except the
ordinary everyday sort which helps them to disappear quietly and quickly into a
room with Frodo when certain urges come along, making a noise like elephants
which others hear a mile off. They are inclined to be curvy in the bosom; they
dress in bright colours (sometimes green and yellow); wear no shoes, because
their feet grow natural leathery soles and thick warm brown hair like the stuff
on their heads (which is curly); have long clever fingers for typing;
good-natured faces and laugh deep fruity laughs (especially after a shag with
Frodo, which they have twice a day when they can get it.) Now you know enough to
go on with.
As I was saying, the love-object of this harem – Frodo Baggins, that is –
was the famous Ringbearer, one of the three remarkable hobbits of the
Fellowship, head of the hobbits who turned lasses’ knees to Water, creating a
small river that overflowed on The Net. It was often said (in other families)
that long ago one of the Bagginses must have had a Harem. That was, of course,
absurd, but certainly there was still something not entirely chaste about them,
and once in a while members of the Baggins-clan would go and have it off with
group of lasses. They discreetly disappeared, and the family hushed it up; but
he fact remained that the Bagginses were not as respectable as the other
families, though they were undoubtedly richer.
Not that Frodo Baggins ever stopped having adventures after he came to Tol
Eressea. Bilbo, that was Frodo’s uncle, built the most luxurious hobbit-hole
for him (and partly with the aid of some Elves) that was to be found either
under The Net or over The Net or across Valinor, and there they remained to the
end of their days. It is probable that Frodo, their dearest love, although he
looked and behaved exactly like a second edition of his lovely and chaste former
self, got something a bit raunchy (no, I’m not saying queer, this is not a
slash site) in his make-up from the Took side, something that had only waited
for this chance to come out. The chance never arrived until Frodo Baggins was
grown up, being about fifty-three years old, or so, and living in the beautiful
hobbit-hole, which I have just described for you, until he had in fact
apparently settled down immovably.
By some curious chance one morning long ago in the quiet of Tol Eressea, when
there was little noise and much green, and the hobbits were, if not numerous,
very prosperous, and Frodo Baggins was standing at his door after breakfast,
smoking an enormous long wooden pipe that reached nearly down to his woolly toes
(mmm, toes!) - Gandalf came by.
Gandalf! If I could tell you all about his pointy hat - but then, this is not a
slash site.
'Good morning!' said Frodo, and he meant it. The sun was shining, and the grass
was very green. But Gandalf looked him from under long bushy eyebrows that stuck
out futher than the brim of his shady hat. (Well, they don’t in the films, and
thank Eru for that.)
'Nice pipe,' said Gandalf.
'Thank you! If you have no pipe, sit down and have a fill of mine! There’s no
hurry, we have all the day before us!'
'Very nice,' said Gandalf. 'But I have no time to blow smoke-rings this morning.
I am looking for someone to share in a Harem that I am arranging. It’s very
difficult to find someone.'
'I should think so - in these parts! We don’t have any harems around here.
They make you late for dinner. I can’t think what anybody sees in them,' said
our Mr Baggins.
'What a lot of excuses you make! To think you’d refuse to have a Harem,
sending me off as if I was selling buttons at the door!'
'I’m sorry,' said Frodo. 'I did not mean to be impolite. But can’t we talk
about something else? What about your fireworks? I remember those. They used to
- ''
“Yes, I’m quite aware of how good my fireworks are,” said Gandalf. 'So
stop there, I’m getting deja vu. I will give you the Harem you asked for.'
'I beg your pardon, I haven’t asked for a Harem!'
'Tough,' said Gandalf. 'You’re getting one anyway. Very amusing for me, very
good for you - and enjoyable too, very likely, if you ever get over it.'
'Sorry! I don’t want any Harem, thank you. But please come to tea - any time
you like! Why not tomorrow! Come tomorrow! Goodbye!'
With that Frodo turned and hurried inside his round green door, and shut it.
He had only just had breakfast, but he thought a cake or two and a drink of
something would do him good after that conversation.
Gandalf in the meantime was still standing outside the door, and laughing long
but quietly. After a while he stepped up, and with the spike on his staff
scratched a queer sign on the hobbit’s beautiful green front-door. Then he
strode away, just about the time when Frodo was finishing the second cake and
beginning to think that he had escaped Harems very well.
The next day he had almost forgotten about Gandalf. But just before tea-time
there came a tremendous ring on the front-door bell, and then he remembered! He
rushed and put on the kettle, and put out another cup and saucer, and an extra
cake or two, and ran to the door.
'I am so sorry to keep you waiting!' he was going to say, when he saw that it
was not Gandalf at all. It was a lass with golden hair and very bright eyes
under her dark-green hood. As soon as the door was opened, she pushed inside,
just as if she had been expected.
She hung her hooded cloak on the nearest peg, and 'Pearl Took at your service,'
she said with a saucy smile.
'Frodo Baggins at yours!' said Frodo, too surprised to ask any questions for the
moment. He added, “I was just about to have tea, pray come and have some with
me.” A little stiff perhaps, but he meant it kindly. And what would you do, if
an uninvited Haremite came and hung her things up in your hall without a word of
explanation?
They had not been at the table long, in fact they had hardly reached the third
cheesecake, when there came another even louder ring at the bell.
‘Excuse me!’ said the hobbit, and off he went to the door.
‘So you have got here at last!’ That was what he was going to say to Gandalf
this time. But it was not Gandalf. Instead there was a very hot-looking lass on
the step with a white dress and a scarlet hood; and she too hopped inside as
soon as the door was open, just as if she had been invited.
‘I see they have begun to arrive already,’ she said when she caught sight of
Pearl’s green hood hanging up. She hung her red one next to it, and
‘Niphredil at your service,’ she said, before adding, ‘oh, Frodo, you look
absolutely gorgeous.’
‘Thank you!’ said Frodo with a gasp. It was not the correct thing to say,
but ‘they have begun to arrive’ had flustered him badly. He liked lasses,
but he liked to know them before they started chatting him up, and he preferred
to chat them up himself. He had a horrible thought that the cakes might run
short, and then he – as the host; he knew his duty and stuck to it however
painful – he might have to give these lasses what they were asking for.
‘Come along in, and have some tea!’ he managed to say after taking a deep
breath.
‘A kiss would suit me better, if it is all the same to you,’ said Niphredil
with a heave of her bosom. ‘I don’t mind some heavy petting either – if
you’ve ever kissed a lass before.’
‘Lots!’ Frodo found himself answering, to his surprise; and he found himself
kissing Niphredil rather passionately.
When they had rearranged their clothing and returned to the table, Niphredil and
Pearl began talking at the table like old friends (as a matter of fact they were
sisters). Frodo plumped down some beer and cheesecake in front of them, when
loud came a ring at the bell again, and then another ring.
‘Gandalf for certain this time,’ he thought as he raced along the passage.
But it was not. It was two more lasses, both with blue hoods, silver belts, and
yellow dresses, and each of them carried a bag of clothes and a suitcase. In
they hopped, as soon as the door began to open – Frodo was hardly surprised at
all.
‘What can I do for you, my lasses?’ he said.
‘Narya at your service!’ said the one. ‘And Chica!’ added the other; and
they both swept off their blue hoods and kissed him.
‘At yours and your family’s!’ replied Frodo, remembering his manners this
time and kissing them back.
‘Pearl and Niphredil are here already, I see,’ said Narya. ‘Let us join
the throng!’
‘Throng!’ thought Mr Baggins. ‘I don’t like the sound of that. I really
must sit down for a minute and collect my wits, and have a drink.’ He had only
just had a sip – while the four lasses sat round him, and talked about how
they were going to look after him and how they were going to share the
appointment book, and lots of other things which he did not understand, and did
not want to, for they sounded much too adventurous – when,
ding-dong-a-ling-dang, his bell rang again, as if some naughty elf was trying to
pull the handle off.
‘Someone at the door!’ he said, blinking.
‘Some four, I should say by the sound,’ said Chica. ‘Besides, we saw them
coming along behind us in the distance.’
The astonished Frodo sat down in the hall and wondered what had happened, but
the bell rang again louder than ever, and he had to run to the door. It was not
four after all, it was FIVE. Another lass had come along while he was wondering
in the hall. He had hardly turned the knob, before they were all inside, smiling
and purring ‘at your service’ one after another. Hewene, Spork, Elda,
Elevensies and Lily were their names, and very soon two purple hoods, a silver
hood, a pink hood, and a white hood were hanging on the pegs, and off they
marched with Frodo to join the others. Already it had almost become a throng.
Some kissed his hair, and some his face, and one his neck, and all of them his
lips, so the hobbit was kept very busy for a while.
A number of buttons had landed in the hearth, his waistcoat was gone, and the
lasses were starting on his breeches when there came – a loud knock. Not a
ring, but a hard rat-tat on the hobbit’s beautiful green door. Somebody was
banging with a stick!
Frodo rushed along the passage, very flustered, and altogether bewildered and
bebothered – this was the most awkward situation he ever remembered. He pulled
open the door with a jerk, and they all fell in on top of him. More lasses, many
more! (They weren’t complaining, I can tell you.) And there was Gandalf
behind, leaning on his staff and laughing. He had made quite a dent on the
beautiful door; he had also, by the way, knocked out the secret mark that he had
put there the morning before.
‘Carefully! Carefully!’ he said. ‘It is not like you, Frodo, to keep
friends waiting on the mat, and then open the door like a pop-gun! I’m not
going to introduce all these just yet, except Gorbag.’
‘Hello, Frodo,’ said the lasses happily, getting up and putting their hoods
on pegs. The only non-lass was Gorbag, a most important Orc, who was not at all
pleased at falling flat on Frodo’s mat with all the lasses on top of him. For
one thing, an enormous pile of Haremites is extremely heavy. Gorbag indeed was
rather peeved, and said he shouldn’t be treated like that when he was on a
diet, but the lasses said they were sorry so many times, that at last he grunted
‘pray don’t mention it,’ and stopped scowling.
‘Now we are all here!’ said Gandalf. ‘Quite a merry gathering! I hope
there is something left for the latecomers to eat and drink! What’s that? Tea?
No thank you! A little red wine, I think, for me.’
'And a shag and a massage,' said one lass.
'And a bath in front of the fire,' said another.
'And a snog and a - ouch! There’s nothing wrong with that word!
'PG site,' muttered the other Haremite.
‘And a cuddle - and hugs - and some more snogs, if you don’t mind,’ called
the other lasses through the door.
‘Seem to know as much about my talents as I do myself!’ thought Mr Baggins,
who was feeling positively flummoxed.
By the time he had given the lasses more kisses, he was getting very hot, and
red in the face. But before he could say ‘knife’ the lasses had whisked him
into the parlour and started everything afresh.
Gandalf sat at the head of the table, and Frodo sat on a stool at the fireside
nibbling at an earlobe (his appetite was starting to return) and trying to look
as if this was all perfectly ordinary and not in the least peculiar. The lasses
ate cheesecake, and talked, and time got on. At last they pushed their chairs
back.
‘I suppose you will all stay to supper?’ Frodo said, and jumped as a lass
ran her foot up his leg.
‘Of course!’ said Pearl. ‘And after. You shan’t get through everyone
till late, and we must have some music first. Now to clear up!’
Thereupon the lasses - not Gorbag, he was setting up his hammock, and stayed
talking to Gandalf - jumped to their feet, and made tall piles of all the
things. Off they went with Frodo, not waiting for trays, while Frodo stammered;
‘please, don’t trouble! I can manage.’ But the lasses only started to
sing:
Chipping glasses and cracking plates!
Shaking tables and rattling forks!
that’s what Frodo’s love creates -
Smashing bottles and burning corks!
Tear his clothes and knock him flat!
Roll around on the pantry floor!
Have him twice on the bedroom mat!
Make a racket behind the door!
Kiss him after an evening stroll;
Pound him like you’re a thumping pole;
And when you’ve finished, if you’re still whole,
Down the hall you’re going to roll!
That’s what Frodo’s love creates!
So that’s why BEWTE has cracked plates!
Of course they did not do any of these things straight away. Everything was
cleaned and put away safe as quick as lightning, while Frodo was turning round
and round in the middle of the kitchen trying to see what they were doing. Then
they went back to the parlour, and found Gandalf smoking a pipe and Gorbag
eating a cheese sandwich.
‘Now for some music!’ said a lass. ‘Bring out the instruments!’
Stormy and Mel rushed for their bags and brought back little fiddles, Ghyste,
Opaline and Tata brought out flutes from somewhere inside their dresses, Pearl
produced chains from her bag and was told to put them back again, and a couple
of lasses went out and came back with clarinets. Maeglian and Mariole came back
with viols as big as themselves, and with Talagwen’s harp wrapped in a green
cloth. It was a beautiful golden harp, and when Tala struck it the music began
all at once, and they began to sing again.
Far over the misty mountains cold
from dungeons deep and caverns old
We ran away ere break of day,
To seek the hobbit we wish to hold.
His beauty has cast mighty spells,
his voice is clear as ringing bells
Our love is deep, and so we’ll sleep,
right here in BEWTE where he dwells.
No ancient king nor elvish lord
Could win away this happy horde
Their love was wrought, their passion caught
by one sweet hobbit they adored.
Like silver necklaces all strung
Like flowering stars, and crowns, they hung
like dragon-fire, in twisted wire
upon their love, their moon and sun.
Far over the misty mountains cold
from dungeons deep and caverns old
We ran away ere break of day,
To seek the hobbit we wish to hold.
A niche they carved there for themselves
with love untold; where no man delves
There stayed they long, and many a song
was sung unheard by men or elves.
They knew his perils on the height,
Of painful groaning in the night,
The One Ring’s dread, its anguish spread;
Its fire like torches blazed with light.
Of trumpets sounding in the dale,
when men looked up with faces pale;
And Sauron’s ire more fierce than fire
Laid low their towers and houses frail.
The mountain smoked beneath the moon
The hobbits heard the tramp of doom.
Then loosed the thrall, to dying fall
Beneath their feet, beneath the moon.
Far over the misty mountains grim
From dungeons deep and caverns dim
We came away ere break of day
And we will never part from him!
As they sang the hobbit felt the love of beautiful lasses moving through him, a
fierce love, the desire of the hearts of Haremites. Then something woke up in
him, and he wished to share this passionate affection, and live with these
lasses who loved him so. He even felt comfortable with the Orc, who fortunately
seemed to be a vegetarian. Suddenly in the parlour fire a flame leapt up - and
he thought of how very passionate the lasses all were, and he began to worry if
he really could keep them all happy.
He got up trembling. He had less than half a mind to fetch the lamp, and more
than half a mind to pretend to, and go and hide behind the beer-barrels in the
cellar, and not come out again until all the lasses had gone away. Suddenly he
found that the music and the singing had stopped, and they were all looking at
him with eyes shining in the dark.
‘Where are you going?’ said Chica.
‘What about a little light?’ said Frodo apologetically.
‘We like the dark,’ said all the lasses, meaningfully. ‘There are many
hours before dawn.’
‘Of course!’ said Frodo, and sat down in a hurry. He missed the stool and
sat in the fender, knocking over the poker and shovel with a crash.
‘Hush!’ said Gandalf. ‘Let the lasses take their turns!’ And so the
lasses began teasing Frodo again. If they had been allowed, they would probably
have gone on like this until they were out of breath. But every hobbit has a
limit, and Frodo couldn’t bear it any longer. He began to feel a shriek coming
up inside, and very soon it burst out like the whistle of an engine coming out
of a tunnel.
The lasses, some of themselves quite vocal, lit up cigarettes.
Gandalf struck a blue light on the end of his magic staff, and in its firework
glare Frodo could be seen kneeling on the hearth-rug, shaking. One lass fell
flat on the floor, and kept calling out ‘BEAUTY!’ over and over again; and
that was all they could get out of her for a long time. So they took Frodo and
laid him out on the drawing-room sofa, to have a rest before they went back to
business.
‘Excitable little fellow,’ said Gandalf, as they sat down again. ‘But he
is one of the best, one of the best - as fierce as a dragon in a pinch.’
‘Mmm,’ said the lasses, fanning themselves and comparing hickies.
Ater a while Frodo crept nervously to the door of the parlour. This is what he
heard, a lass speaking: “Will he let us stay, do you think? It is all very
well to talk about Frodo being fierce, but if he doesn’t agree to let us stay
it will kill the lot of us. If it had not been for the sign on the door I should
have not have believed he would welcome us so freely. But as soon as I clapped
eyes on that beautiful creature on the mat, I had no doubts. He looks more like
a Renaissance angel than a hobbit!”
Then Mr Baggins turned the handle and went in. He suddenly felt he would go
without bed and breakfast to be thought hot. As for ‘Renaissance angel’ it
almost made him *really* hot.
‘Pardon me,’ he said, ‘if I have overheard words that you were saying. I
don’t pretend to understand what you are talking about, or your reference to
angels, but think I am right in believing (this is what he called being on his
dignity, which was difficult considering he was only half dressed), ‘that you
think I am not welcoming of you. I will show you. I have no signs on my door -
it was painted a week ago - , but as soon as I saw your pretty faces on the
doorstep, I had no doubts. Tell me what it is you want done, and I will try it,
if I have to spend all day with you in a bath, or read you stories by the fire,
or - ‘ he stopped, noticing the lasses were looking at him with heaving
bosoms.
‘I assure you there is a mark on this door,’ one lass explained, more or
less coherently. ‘Bachelor Hobbit wants a Harem, plenty of Excitement and
reasonable Rewards.’ You can say ‘Total Love God’ instead of
‘Bachelor’ if you like, it’s all the same to us.’
‘Of course there is a mark,’ said Gandalf. ‘I put it there myself. Let’s
have no more argument. Frodo, you may (possibly) live to thank me yet. Now fetch
the lamp, and let’s have a little light on this!’
On the table in the light of a big lamp with a red shade he spread a piece of
parchment with black covers.
‘This is the appointment book,’ he said in answer to the Haremites’
excited questions. ‘It is a plan to keep things organised.’
‘I don’t see that this will help us much,’ said a lass disappointedly
after a glance.
‘Why not?’
‘Because it is too small.’
‘It seems a great big book to me,’ gasped Frodo. He was getting excited and
interested again (the lasses couldn’t keep their hands off him), so that he
forgot to keep his mouth shut.
‘Very well then,’ said Gandalf, ‘how about some ideas or suggestions?’
He turned with politeness to Frodo.
‘First I should like to know a bit more about things,’ said he, feeling all
confused and a bit shaky inside, but so far still determined to go on with
things. ‘I mean about the appointments and all that, and who I belong to, and
so on and further.’
‘Bless me!’ said one of the lasses. ‘Didn’t you hear our song? And
haven’t we been talking about all this for hours?’
‘All the same I should like it all plain and clear,’ said Frodo obstinately,
putting on his business manner (which is very difficult to do when one is
affected by physical desire) and yet doing his best to appear hot and attractive
and exciting and live up to Gandalf’s recommendation.
‘O very well,’ said Pearl. ‘Long ago we read about your adventures with
the One Ring, and then we saw films about it - we’ll explain those later - and
we found each other on the Net. So we decided we wanted to live with you here
and make you happy. You belong to all of us, and us to you. We had another site,
but that was attacked by a dragon. The few of us that escaped sat and wept in
hiding, and cursed those that did not understand, and then we unexpectedly found
another site.’
‘Thank you,’ said Gandalf. ‘I must say, I’m not used to such brevity in
an explanation. So what do you say, Frodo? These lasses have come from far away
to be with you, and you will get to know them.’
‘Well,’ said Frodo, after a long pause. ‘Er.. I’ll give it a try. What
about bed and an early night?’
The hobbit had to find room for them all, and filled all his spare-rooms and
made beds on chairs and sofas before he got them all stowed and went to his own
bed very tired, but not altogether unhappy. One thing he did make his mind up
about was to get up very early and cook everybody’s breakfast. He was not now
quite so sure that he was going to see these lasses off in the morning.
As he lay in bed he could hear Gandalf humming to himself in the best bedroom
next to him:
Far over the misty mountains cold
From dungeons deep and caverns old
They came away ere break of day
To find the hobbit they longed to hold.
Frodo went to sleep with that in his ears (among other things) and it gave him
extremely pleasant dreams. It was long after the break of day when he woke up.
He realised he felt happy to have a Harem in Tol Eressea. He felt loved and
fortunate. And the Haremites had no objections at all.
(On to chapter 2...)