"And so, chainmail is better than plate armor because it allows more movement." The words were spoken by a teenage girl, leaning back in her chair as she watched her younger brother, waiting for a response. She did not have to wait long.

"Then why didn't more people use chainmail?" For an eleven-year-old boy, he seemed to have an extraordinary interest in Middle-earth, especially the armor, weapons, and battles which had taken place there. The girl, called Kristin by most, absentmindedly twirled part of her bangs around her finger as she thought of an answer which would not only be satisfactory, but would give her brother reason to leave her alone.

Standing, she finally said, "It's because chainmail was more expensive, because it's harder to make. I mean, if it's really good chainmail, you'd have to weld every little link to the ones around it." Sometimes, she wished her brother wouldn't come to her with all his questions, but then she remembered a very basic fact. Being the only person in her family who had actually read The Silmarillion, she was regarded as the expert -somewhat- on Middle-earth, especially the First Age. It would be a blatant lie to say that she minded this status. Talking about the First Age was always a surefire way to pass the time, and sometimes the questions her brother asked actually required a bit of thought.

The younger boy seemed about to say something more, but was interrupted by a slamming door. Kristin left the room quickly, thankful for a reason to go. "Who slammed the door?" she called out in an irritated tone. Kristin, much like her mother, hated it when people slammed doors. Unfortunately, her brothers did not feel the same way.

"Sorry!" Kristin rolled her eyes. Sure. Just like he was last time, she thought, turning from the hallway into the stairs, as she retreated down to her room. Retreat, she reflected, was always an option, especially when you had just gotten a stack of books, and therefore didn't want to talk to anybody. Reading was one of her favorite pastimes, along with various forms of music.

It seemed, though, that her chances of reading her beloved books were becoming rather slim. "Kristin, you've got to come see this!" She sighed rather loudly, but walked over to the table at which her older brother was sitting.

"What is it this time?" If it's another quiz on that 'sporkle' website... Her thoughts trailed off into the endless choices of what, precisely, she would do if all Luke wanted her to see was a quiz.

"Guess what I just set my alarm as?" Luke asked, bent over his phone. Kristin thought for a moment, distracted from the books waiting for her. Guessing games involving Luke's alarm choices…wonderful. Still, though, it was better than watching Katherine sleep after her cross-country meet.

"Something from 'Llamas with Hats'." It was less of a question than a statement, because one thing that both Luke and Kristin shared was an obsession with the aforementioned videos. On a second thought, she added, "Or 'Stairway to Heaven'."

Luke laughed. "Carl, that kills people," he said, in perfect imitation of Paul. It was, so to speak, Luke's signature 'Llamas with Hats' line, made better by his uncanny ability to imitate voices. "Why would I have 'Stairway to Heaven' as an alarm? That like, a guarantee of a bad day. I mean, who wants to wake up to Led Zeppelin?"

The normally solitary teenager shrugged off the questions, as well as the name switch. Luke seemed to call everyone Carl at one point or another. "What is it, then?" She tapped the side of her thumb against the table, an annoying habit she had picked up a few years before. In reply, Luke turned up the volume on his phone and pressed 'Play.'

"Carl, that kills people…Carl, that kills people…Carl, that kills people." Kristin snatched the phone out of her brother's hand, and muted the volume. She handed the phone back a moment later, smirking slightly.

"Nice one," she told her brother. "That's going to make Thomas want to kill you." Due to having a large family, everybody shared a room with at least one other person. Luke was unfortunate enough to share a room with Thomas, their eight-year-old brother, who was very easily annoyed. She suspected that he would be especially annoyed with such an alarm, as he hated 'Llamas with Hats'.

"I know, right?" Luke seemed oblivious to his potential doom. Perhaps it was a good thing that he was going to be at college in less than a year. Then again, Kristin realized, maybe it wasn't such a good thing. Being oblivious would not get her brother through college. At least, it probably wouldn't. Kristin nodded, sighed, and walked away, heading for her room.

Once there, she collapsed on her bed. "Living with the Fëanorians would probably be easier than this family," she muttered to herself. "At least there were only seven sons…" Quickly, though, she regretted the words. "Alright, alright! We're not that bad. Whatever." She picked up the nearest book, Gregor the Overlander, and opened it, ready to bury her mind somewhere in the pages of the story. A folded sheet of paper fell out. She picked it up, unfolded it, and immediately dropped it again. Written on it were four words:

Challenge accepted. – Curufinwë Fëanáro