#I think I spent equal time researching worldbuilding as I did writing the fic lol

[mamahersh]

Scar's Wizardly Primer on How to Sell Your Friends a Road Trip: Mt. Doom Edition

I decided to get in on the @mcytblraufest band wagon, and 

so here’s my gift to @maebe-later​ !  

If you would like to read this fic on AO3, you can find it HERE.

SUMMARY: 

Scar has an idea. A terrific, amazing idea that will change the entire economic landscape of Middle Earth if he can just convince his two best friends to come along for the ride. Of course, being a "Wizard" has its perks, but unfortunately none of them are the ability to drag his friends along on adventures at a moment's notice. So in this lovely primer, Scar will show the reader exactly how to convince your friends to join you on a madcap quest all the way to Mt. Doom to sell Sauron your trash/treasures.

>In which Scar, Mumbo, and Grian devise ill-advised schemes in Cleo’s bar, and of the three the only human is the “wizard”

Scar sat by himself at an otherwise unoccupied table in the middle of Dale's seediest tavern. “Seedy” was, of course, a mostly subjective term that when applied to taverns implied a certain level of griminess be involved. However in Scar's most humble opinion, “The Bee’s Mead” was a perfectly respectable establishment devoted only to serving the most excellent of brews for a reasonable price! And it made a great place to meet up if you wanted to talk shady business, but that was besides the point! (No, it really was the point, but it helped that Scar was on good terms with the tavern owner and had a discount on any beers of foreign import. Scar claimed it was because he had enchanted the woman's back garden to growing only the finest potatoes this side of the Misty Mountains, but Cleo would only ever say that having him around attracted “the right clientele”).

All this to say, that it was the middle of the day, in a mostly empty tavern where he was awaiting the arrival of his two best friends. He could have just dragged them down to the tavern himself, but at least one of them had been busy at the time, and unfortunately not everyone seemed to understand that Wizard business was the most important thing anyone could be involved with, ever. Of course, a Wizard always arrives precisely when he means to, so it was on everyone else to actually catch up if Scar was feeling a little speedy that morning. (In actuality, Scar was still getting used to the raven postal system, and didn't realize that trying to convince Grian to meet up in person would take more time than it would take for Mumbo to receive his letter and then send one back. Due to the amount of scheduling conflicts, it had taken a couple of weeks to actually get this meeting set up, so Scar was just happy that it was happening at all. In his excitement, he had left the room he had been staying in a bit early so he could meet up with them right away.)

Speaking of catching up though, Scar hoped that his friends were having safe trips to the tavern. After all, there had been rumors that there had been an increase in bandit activity on the outskirts of Dale recently. He knew, of course, that both his friends were well taught in the art of war (far better than he ever had been anyways, but let it never be said that being a con man didn’t have its perks), so he knew that unless the unthinkable happened they would both be just fine making it to the tavern by themselves. However, Mumbo had a bit of a poor time finding things that were outside the mountain, so Scar made sure to give his somewhat directionally challenged friend very clear instructions as to where The Bee’s Mead was in town. Not that it would help matters, as directions only work if you can find the right bread crumbs in the right order. Needless to say, Scar thought he might have to ask Grian to go back out and find Mumbo once he arrived just to make sure Mumbo would find their meeting spot alright. Then again, this was not actually the first time they had all met up at this particular tavern, much less within the walls of Dale, so maybe this would finally be the meetup that Mumbo would find the tavern with no problems…

As if thinking about them had been a summons, Grian seemed to almost materialize at the table in front of Scar, and trailing behind him was a vaguely flustered B. Mumbo Jumbo. (B. of course standing for his real name: Bumbo. However after Scar tried for 20 minutes during their first exchange just trying to get his name right, Mumbo had simply capitulated to Scar’s “close enough” substitute of “Mumbo” and the rest was history). Scar waved them both over to the table he had been monopolizing, grinning from ear to ear as Mumbo and Grian sat across and to his left respectively.

“Well hello there gentlemen! Good of you to join me this most sunny of days at this lovely establishment,” greeted Scar with his usual flourish. He could feel Cleo’s amused glance from behind the bar while the two “Men” before him gave him good natured eye rolls.

“‘Lovely establishment’ is a bit of a stretch and you know it,” replied Grian, smirking while keeping his eyes firmly on Scar, though easily loud enough for Cleo to hear from the bar if she was so inclined. A muffled shout could be heard from the back, and Scar guessed from the impish grin still on Grian’s face that whatever Cleo had replied with, it probably wasn’t the kind of thing that would normally end with Grian’s good health.

“Grian!” gasped Scar with a smile. “How could you say such a thing about the best bar in Dale? I am shocked and appalled that you would say anything against our lovely Cleo’s pride and joy.”

Mumbo snorted at them from across the table, looking over Grian’s shoulder towards the bar where Cleo would still be doing her job behind the counter. “Grian, I think if you disparage Cleo’s tavern one more time this year, you’re going to get us banned from here.”

“He will not ,” replied Scar, putting on his most scandalized look. “Cleo loves me without exception, so it’ll just be you two uninvited.” (Distantly he could hear Cleo's retort of "I wouldn't bet on that").

“Speaking of invitations,” said Grian. “You mentioned when you were trying to get us to meet up that you wanted to invite us along on some ‘Wizard Business’?” The air quotes, while not actually utilized, were heavily implied in Grian’s tone.

With that, Scar flipped to his more professional facade. “Of course! Hard to conduct Wizard Business if I don’t have companions for the more important bits of business to conduct.” At this Scar leaned forwards conspiratorially. “I heard from my fellow Wizards that there’s big news from the South.” Here Scar allowed himself to be serious. “Rumor has it Mt. Doom erupted in Nénimë of this year and the Steward of Gondor had to evacuate the last of their people from Ithilien.”

Grian and Mumbo looked shocked, with a certain flavor of angry and horrified on Grian’s face that Scar suspected was from Grian’s past experiences. While Grian pulled off a very convincing human, that still did nothing for the fact that he had lived for the past 2 Ages, witnessing the horror that was the end of the Second Age in person. He didn’t like to talk about it, but Scar knew that as a general rule elves who had seen the “Last Alliance of Elves and Men” tended to be rather cagey about the details outside of their songs.

“ Orchion ...” muttered Grian finally, letting out a huff. Then, in a complete 180, he got up from the table.  "You two want some beer while I'm up?" he asked them with a grin.

“Of course! Could you get me and Mumbo some of the good stuff? Tell Cleo she can put it on my tab!” Scar called out to him. He saw Grian wave in what Scar assumed was affirmation while Cleo called out in mild exasperation: “I can hear you just fine Scar!”

Mumbo continued to shoot concerned looks after Grian, before finally sighing and asking, “do you think Grian’ll be alright?”

Scar smiled at Mumbo gently and tried to assure him with, “Grian will be just fine. Give him a few pints and he’ll be right as rain!” (A few pints was an understatement, but the less said about millenia of alcohol tolerance the better in Scar’s opinion. It had been the cause of quite a few amusing instances of out of hand drinking games that ended in some rather embarrassing blackmail material.)

Mumbo nodded along, though still seemed somewhat unsettled. “And what about Gwaeian ?” he continued.

Scar paused a moment, wishing he had a pint of ale in front of him to stare into contemplatively. His hands would have to do the trick for the moment while he considered how to answer. Unknown to most of the local Men, Grian also went by a pseudonym, though not because Scar could not pronounce it (but it was a part of the reason now at least, since Scar still hadn’t ever actually said Gwaeian’s name right).

Grian’s given name was Gwaeian, a proper old elvish name from supposedly before the sun was placed into the sky. While Grian himself was nowhere close to that old, he was old enough to have seen some terrible things in his time. So when things came up that seemed to bother Grian enough to make him cranky, or put even the slightest crack in his cheerful demeanor, Scar and Mumbo referred to that more “honest” facade as “Gwaeian”. Usually to pull him out of his funk, all they would have to do is be themselves and keep Grian anchored to the present moment, but sometimes there was nothing they could do but let Grian take care of himself and be there when he would come back.

All this to say that by asking how “Gwaeian” was doing, Mumbo was trying to see how Scar thought Grian was reacting to the information that the greatest evil of the last Age was returning to his seat of power. Did Scar think that Grian would handle the information in stride? Yes. Did Scar think that Grian would potentially push to do something stupid because of the information? Very possibly. Would a “few” beers be enough to get his head on straight for the moment…?

“He’ll be fine, though I think Grian will enjoy the whiskey he’ll sweet talk off of Cleo in the meantime,” replied Scar at last, a smile deployed to help reassure the both of them. “My guess would be that he’ll get the stuff from Rohan since we just got the trade caravans through within the last month.”

Mumbo seemingly thought for a moment, and then countered, “You say that, but if I know him, he’ll first check if there’s any West Farthing Scotch from the Shire still hidden in one of Cleo’s cellars.”

Before Scar could reply, Grian returned to the table with three very full pints of what looked like beer. “I’ve got goodies!” called Grian, smile looking cheerful as he distributed the wooden mugs and then sat down himself. A quick glance at Grian’s pint allowed Scar to note that it was not, in fact, filled with beer like at first glance, but something that Scar would bet was closer to whiskey. “Hey Grian, whatcha got there?” asked Scar, curious whether he or Mumbo had managed to peg Grian’s choice correctly or not.

“Hmm? Oh I got some “Ealu” from Rohan, though Cleo assured me that it was some kind of whiskey.” Grian replied. “Why, you want some after your beer?”

Scar waved him off. “Nah, I was just curious.” He grinned over at Mumbo, wiggling his eyebrows in challenge.

Mumbo scowled, and piped in, “Actually, I thought you mentioned last we were here that you really enjoyed the West Farthing Scotch that Cleo had managed to get from the last Shire caravan.”

Grian gave the both of them a side eye, but replied, “I did, but when I asked, she said she was plumb out and ‘didn’t think she had any on hand’. Suspicious if you ask me.”

Mumbo grinned back at Scar, while Scar took a purposeful sip of his beer. “Sounds like you finally pissed Cleo off enough to keep you from the good stuff.” Said Scar, planning on getting some for himself after their talk. Speaking of, it was now or never to bring up the topic now that Cleo knew they would want drinks, and his friends were both settled at the table. With another gulp of liquid courage, Scar got to task, sorting over what arguments he could give that would sell best his particular brand of hair-brained scheme.

Grian would either be completely on board or completely against it right off the bat, Scar knew, particularly if it meant traveling closer to peril instead of away from it. Mumbo on the other hand would be generally against the idea on principle until both Grian and Scar ganged up on him. But what crazy idea would be so potentially divisive one might ask? Glad you asked random brain snooper! The moment Scar had heard that Sauron was back and so was all of Mordor, he wanted to go to Gondor to see the glow of the newly erupted volcano. And potentially see if he could get past Osgiliath to see the foothills of the Black Mountains and maybe try selling some wares to the “locals”. Which was a truly terrible idea, but honestly you only live once as a Man and a Dwarf… and probably Elves, but Grian had some stories that put that last one into question. (Listen, how was Scar supposed to know that potentially more than one Elf had been offered an opportunity to be reborn in Middle Earth? He just assumed like most who knew anything about Elves that Glorfindel was it but noooo .) HOWEVER, ‘nothing ventured, nothing gained’ as Scar liked to say!

“So… Mordor,” started Mumbo, glancing rapidly between Grian, Scar, and his drink.

“Mt. Doom erupting more specifically,” replied Scar, smiling his most likable salesman smile.

“What do you want us to do with that information though?” asked Grian, giving Scar a deceptively disinterested glance.

“Well, as a Wizard ,” began Scar, earning an eye roll from Grian and a sigh from Mumbo. “I figure that me and some companions should check on Gondor, confirm some rumors, maybe get some sightseeing in while we’re there…”

With each word, Grian squinted harder at Scar while Mumbo (surprisingly) looked like he might actually consider the offer. “ And ,” Scar continued, “what’s not to love about Gondor? We’ll be arriving probably around Yule, which in the South I’ve heard is a lovely time of year!”

Grian gave a small twitch of a grin. “Well, you’re not wrong about that .”

“ And ,” continued Scar, “I’m sure we could do some extra sightseeing on the way down, see some new elves, learn how to ride horses…” Here Scar wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, hoping the added silliness would perhaps sway Grian towards the idea. What he hadn’t quite accounted for was Mumbo’s tastes it seemed.

“Now listen here Scar,” Mumbo stated. “I like Grian as much as the next Man, but you have to remember that just because I like the one elf, doesn’t mean I’m going to enjoy walking into a… a nest of them!” Grian snorted into his drink at this, seemingly quite amused at Mumbo’s inherited general distaste for ‘pointy eared tree shaggers’. “I liked your plan quite nicely up till that point, yeah? So as long as we aren’t making any sudden side quests for, oh I don’t know , The Golden Wood! I think we should be good.”

Grian gave Mumbo a curious look. “So you have no problems with us potentially walking right up to the Black Gates on Scar’s whimsical quest, but Eru help you if you have to put one iron-shod toe into Lórien.” Grian rolled his eyes and went back to grinning. “Yeah, sounds fair. I’d rather not run into anybody from the Golden Woods myself.” He curled his lip a smidge. “Rather uptight, that lot. Act like they’re older than the hills, some of them.”

“If neither of you wanted to make detours on our trip to Gondor, you could have just said so,” pouted Scar, though his grin countered any seriousness. “But I’m not hearing any objections yet either! In fact, sounds like Bumbo Jumbo is already on board!”

“It’s just Bumbo, thank you,” muttered Mumbo half heartedly into the lip of his pint at the same time Grian retorted, “I do have objections, I just figured I would defend Mumbo’s poor sensibilities first.”

“But Grian , what could possibly go wrong?” asked Scar. “You’ll have a wizard with you after all, and when have I ever let you down?” Grian gave Scar the stare that that comment deserved.

“While I disagree that nothing could go wrong,” interrupted Mumbo. “I do like the idea.” Grian shot him a shocked look, while Scar looked a bit startled.

Scar, when planning insane schemes, did not normally garner support from Mumbo. Generally, Grian would whine a bit, before capitulating and going all in on whatever plan Scar had concocted this time. Then Mumbo, because he was their friend, and figured that at least one of them should be sensible about things, would come along to make sure nothing blew up. However, the reality would end with the three of them causing indiscriminate chaos and then fleeing the scene before they could be caught. There had been one or two instances where Mumbo had managed to cause more chaos than Grian, but it was definitely a rarity. All this to say that Mumbo supporting something as insane as going to the most evil place on Arda currently and “sightseeing” was fairly out of character for him.

“And why, praytell, is this particular brand of insanity tickling your fancy?” asked Grian, eyes narrowed in suspicion.

“Ah well, that is to say…” muttered Mumbo, staring furtively into his empty flagon. “I, um, guess it just seems like the thing to do?”

“That makes no sense,” deadpanned Grian.

“Well, haha, um…”

“Mumbo…” gasped Scar in a scandalized fashion. “Do you not know either?”

“I, I do!” replied Mumbo, looking somewhat flustered. “It’s just… The mountain’s back to operational capacity, and I’ve been putting off questing outside the mountain for a decade or so because of wanting to help get the mountain back up and running again.” He gave a timid shrug, and Scar wondered if Mumbo didn’t think they would understand, despite having been his friends for nearly 2 decades at that point.

Scar could remember when they had made the decision together to return to Mumbo and Grian’s respective homelands, having been questing in and around Bree for a few years at that point while Scar integrated himself into the unlikely duo. The news had just broken that the Lonely Mountain was reclaimed and calling all available able-bodied dwarrow to her Halls to serve the new King of the Dwarrow. Mumbo had heard the call and had broken the news to them that he would be leaving as soon as he could to try and make it through the Misty Mountains pass before it snowed in for the season. Well, unbeknownst to the both of them, Grian had been a Wood Elf this whole time and decided that he would join Mumbo to “visit family” in Mirkwood, and seeing as Scar was basically family at this point, was invited along for the ride. Of course, Scar could not say no, so off they went together to see the otherside of the Misty Mountains (for the first time for two of them, and the first after a very long absence for Grian).

“Ah yes, that ever mercurial feeling: Wanderlust ,” sighed Scar, sending a dramatic wink across the table to Grian.

“I-I mean, well…” sputtered Mumbo as Grian broke into chuckles.

“Well that explains that then,” finished Grian, grinning back at Scar. “And sure, since it sounds like I can’t leave you two to your own devices for more than a moment, count me in. This insanity might as well be old hat by this point.”

“You won’t regret this Grian!” exclaimed Scar, warmth filling his chest as his friends, his family, supported him. He truly did not deserve such wonderful friends as these, and if there was one thing he could do well, it was keeping his friends safe despite the odds.

Grian laughed in response, and Mumbo joined in, before finally Scar couldn’t contain himself and joined in as well. Scar could feel the fond look they were getting from Cleo, and the annoyed looks from some of the regulars who had been drifting in throughout their conversation.

Eventually, they all settled down, and Grian asked the question that Scar had been hoping for all night. “So Mr. ‘Purple Wizard’, have you got yourself a map for the trip yet?”

“Why would a Wizard need a map Grian?” asked Scar, as innocently as he could pull. “My sense of direction is impeccable, and as long as we head straight south, we should get there in no time!”

“You didn’t think to find a copy of a map to Gondor at least?” pleaded Grian, while Mumbo took another hefty swig of his mug of beer, and looked morosely down at the now empty wooden pint.

“Oh come on Grian, we’ll be fine! We made it over the Misty Mountains with no problems the first time around, didn’t we?”

Grian looked like he was debating whether to launch his pint at Scar’s torso or not. “If by fine you mean up three scars and down 20 Castar, then yes we were just peachy .”

“We didn’t get lost though, did we?”

Grian fumed in silence, but Scar was not wrong. If there was one thing Scar could pride himself in, it was his ability to find his way into and out of trouble with usually only a scar at worst to show for it. (There was a reason his name was Scar after all).

“Anyways, I figured once you guys were on board we could quick pack up and head out by the end of the month.” Here, Scar allowed some of his sincerity to leak through. “Honestly, I didn’t think I’d be able to convince you both to come with.”

“I mean, the idea of going sightseeing of all things in an occupied Ithilien seems rather daft, but I would very much like to see Minas Tirith,” jumped in Mumbo.

“And we might even have time to see the sea,” added Grian, a wistful look on his face.

“Wait… Isn’t the end of the month in like 6 days?” asked Mumbo.

“I figured you both were mostly packed from your trips to Dale, since I know you both like to take a week off for these meetings. All you both should need is enough supplies for a few weeks on the road till we hit the next settlement, and I will have the rest covered!"

The table sat in silence for a moment till Grian finally stated, "please don't tell me you bought a whole wagon with horses when you weren't even sure we would be coming with you."

"I didn't buy a wagon and wagon team for my wizardly wares without being sure about you both coming along with beforehand?"

"SCAR!"

"Listen, I thought that I should be prepared, and besides, I've been wanting to get a wizardly wares wagon for a few years now. I had enough saved up and figured this was the perfect reason to go ahead and get a few things."

Mumbo, listening closely to the conversation, made an 'aha' as pieces seemed to slide into place. "Scar," he said suddenly. "Are you trying to find a reason for us to help you start your traveling salesman business by dragging us on a quest to the gates of Mordor so you can try and sell the greatest evil of our Age some river stones and a custom cloak???"

Grian looked simultaneously incandescent with rage, scandal, and joy as he looked at the progressively embarrassed Man. "You didn't ," he breathed.

"Why Mumbo, I would never ," replied Scar, a mischievous grin hidden under layers of embarrassment and honest worry that this was going to be a deal breaker.

"You did!" Shouted Grian as Mumbo in the same moment called out laughingly, "You would!"

Scar sputtered, and continued. "Even if I was , I doubt I could sell anything past Osgiliath anyways. Orcs are terrible customers, and I doubt I could convince the Dread Powers to hear me out if I wanted to sell him some magical tools to make an even better Ring of Power." The combined deadpan stares prompted Scar to add, “ but , if I did sell to even just the orcs, I’m practically guaranteed that I can sell anything to anyone!”

“Well…” muttered Mumbo while Grian screeched, “that isn’t how any of this works!”

Grian continued, “no Scar, you will get yourself killed this time!”

Scar looked bashfully down at the table. “I figured I wouldn’t if you both came along…” Here he looked back up at Mumbo and Grian. “For luck, seems you’ve both agreed to come along to make sure that doesn’t happen!”

Both Grian and Mumbo gave Scar a long suffering look, though Grian’s had quickly morphed into a smile. “I guess we have,” replied Grian.

Mumbo chuckled at this, and added, “only you two could convince a Dwarf to travel half-way across Middle Earth to knock on the Dark Lord’s front door to sell him trinkets.” After a moment he finished with, “Or anyone quite frankly.”

“Aw you love us,” replied Scar, also grinning from ear to ear. “So what say you both to celebrating tonight, and then getting our packing started tomorrow?”

“Ah, we will need to delay another week, because I will some affairs to get in order back at the Mountain,” interjected Mumbo. “But yes, that plan sounds otherwise perfect. How about you Grian?”

Grian shook his head. “I can stay with Scar while you’re gone. I’ll help him make sure to pack things we need and not just stuff the wagon full to bursting with his ‘magical crystals’.”

Scar made an offended scoff at this while Mumbo grinned back and nodded. “Sounds like we’re in agreement for the foreseeable future. Shall we?” Grian continued.

Scar and Mumbo nodded, and as one they lifted their pints and called out to Cleo for refills. Scar smirked as Cleo screeched at them to “hold their damn horses” and ended up sending her best friend, local bard, and occasional part-time helper Joe to see to their refills. From then on, the evening passed in a pleasurable haze of friends, warmth, and drinks; Grian and Mumbo eventually devolving into a very ill-advised drinking contest that Scar very happily started a betting pool on the moment they started. The night ended with the expected win from Grian, a drunkenly animated Mumbo as he explained how the internal heating system in the Mountain worked, and a significantly richer Scar. They all then went to their rented rooms, and Scar went to bed that night happier than he could ever remember being, and excited for the weeks and months to come.

-THE END-

End Notes:

Thank you for joining me on this crazy little one shot! There were a lot of little details that I had to cut to keep the story moving as well as it did, so I'll be posting a separate addendum with my notes from the creative process that help flesh out the world building. I hope maebe-later enjoys the gift! They were very generous and had a lot of wiggle room, so I hope I didn't go too far off the beaten track with this. :)

I doubt I will continue this in any capacity, but if you're curious how a theoretical sequel would work, in my notes I put: "And they all lived happily ever after and had lots of really fun and stupid adventures as they went on their sightseeing tour of Gondor, the Brown Lands, and the edges of the Black Mountains." As a post script I would add that Scar never did quite sell Sauron anything, but that he probably sold some orcs some of his "magic crystals".