Hello everyone! I've been on a LoTR fix and I had it in my head to do some one shots concerning a tenth walker and the everyday , funny problems that would come from trying to bridge cultural gaps. And you know, worlds.

So this first one is my tenth walker trying to tell the Fellowship a story.

Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings nor Rise of the Guardians. They belong to J.R.R. Tolkien and Dreamworks respectively.

I soon found out that setting up camp was a lot harder than Disney movies made it out to be. Those lucky bastards practically snapped their fingers and bing, bam, boom, fire! Around this time I also found out how hard roughing it was. The third surprise was that I also discovered Mother Nature and I aren't on the best of terms. Even collecting firewood turned out to be a battle.

When I had asked to help, the guys had kinda stood there stupefied. Aragorn had recovered quickest and had given me the task of collecting wood. Which simultaneously ended up being the easiest and most boring job ever. Bang up guy that Strider was.

Turns out though that trees aren't all too eager to let loose some branches for kindle. And heaven help the person who thought whacking braches off was a good idea. There had been a moment where I had honestly thought Legolas was going to go into heart failure when I had attempted it.

Somehow I don't think that elf killer would look good on my resume.

So I mostly puttered about, being useless, while everyone else organized camp like a well-oiled machine. I didn't cook, which had scandalized half the men when they heard that, and the first time I saw an animal being skinned I didn't eat for like two days. One things for sure, I'll never look at a rabbit the same way again.

The hobbits had been the most accepting of me so far, and since we spent most of the day reminiscing about all the good food we were missing out on I had quickly been invited to the fold. Gimli was next in line for being friendly and I quickly found out that dwarven women were seen as being able to almost go toe to toe with their men. It didn't hurt that they all looked the same apparently. It was the beards or so I've been told.

Aragorn was in the middle of the friendly scale. Personally I think it was because Gandalf said that there wasn't anything to fear from me that he even smiled in my direction.

Legolas was too busy being a hippy and only paid attention when I was about to hurt his spirit friends or something.

And on the far end of the scale was good ol'Boromir.

Good ol'Boromir. There was a span of five whole seconds when I first saw him that I thought he was good looking. Then those five seconds past and I have yet to see the scowl leave his face. If he isn't careful that'll stick. For some reason he didn't appreciate my little bit of wisdom when I shared it with him. Oh well.

Found out pretty quick that Boromir had the mindset of Gibbs in Pirates of the Caribbean when it came to women and luck. Except, you know, this wasn't a ship and I happen to consider myself to be very lucky.

Well until recently that is.

He also probably thought I was off my rocker due to my five minutes of full mental meltdown once it sunk in that yes, those LARPERS in front of me were really the Fellowship and yes, it was too bad I hadn't actually taken acid before I saw them.

At least I would have been able to blame something.

The theory I'm currently working with is that I somehow died and Supernatural got heaven right. Some people get to live forever in a bar and some people go on an adventure in Lord of the Rings. Go figure.

Shared the theory with the group and they had looked at me like I had done a full strip tease in front of them. Pole dancing included.

Only Gandalf had looked at me with that infernal Dumbledore twinkle as he leaned against his staff. I had a feeling that he was thinking of that elf dude who had killed some demon or something then magically came back to life naked in the woods. Or maybe he was actually imagining me doing a strip tease. Heaven only knew how old Gandalf was. It had to have been years since he last got some.

Thank God I didn't show up naked. Talk about being cold. Sheesh. Probably would have given Borormir a stroke. And ruined the Hobbits of their innocence. And Legolas'. That dude gave off the vibe of being the world's oldest virgin. Literally.

Dinner was being passed around as that thought drifted through my head and I snorted into my bowl. Much to Boromir's disgust. Gimli just smiled at me around his pipe. I wasn't really paying attention though since I was thinking how funny that movie would be. Forget the 40 Year Old Virgin, how about the 2,994 Year Old Virgin.

I couldn't help but throw a pitying look his way. No wonder he was a hippy. Had to get free love from somewhere.

It was pretty quiet as everyone finished up. I had fallen on mine like a starving wolf and had finished in 2 minutes flat. Everything was so healthy! The hunger never ended. Where was the sugar and cholesterol clogging goodness in this world? I thought it was supposed to be Heaven! Where was the Hershey's?

I stared fore lonely at the bottom of my sad wooden bowl as everyone finished up around me. Ugh, I needed to take my mind off of the fact that my stomach was having a love affair with my spinal cord. Glancing around I noticed how everyone was staring into the fire, looking pretty depressed as they smoked their pipes.

Except Legolas. The hippy was staring at the stars. Pipe less. His dislike of smoking kinda threw my hippy image of him; weren't hippy's supposed to be like stoned all the time? How was he going to do that without smoking some weed? Personally if I was going to live forever I would smoke. Hey living forever would kinda give you the excuse to do all the bad things in life that are supposed to kill you.

One of my friends back home would have a field day over that excuse. No drug would be safe.

Regardless something would have to be done about the silence. There was just something about awkward silences that were awkward. Clearing my throat I jumped slightly when nine pairs of eyes turned to look at me. Talk about being on the spot.

"Soooooooo," dragging out the word I tried to quickly think of what I wanted to say without coming off like a creeper. "Who wants to hear a story?"

The second the sentence left my mouth I wanted to slap myself. Why yes children I do have candy, why don't you come into my white panel van and I'll show you. Asking if grown men want to hear a story. Someone shoot me.

Just seconds before I was going to fake a heart attack Pippin spoke up, "I would like to hear it. Is it from your world?"

Ah Pippin, bless his little munchkin heart.

"Dude I told you. This is Heaven. We're all from the same world. Duh! Some of us just happened to have plastic surgery before we died. **cough, cough The Hippy cough***"

Pausing I stared at them in a new light as a thought struck me like lightening. "Hey did you guys die during the Third Crusade? Man that would explain everything! Your clothes, the way you speak like Shakespeare, your backwards thinking when it comes to women. Ah, I'm a genius."

"What's the Third Crusade?"

"Why would someone shake a spear?"

"I guess that's a no then."

Tapping a finger on my chin I tried to think of a story that wasn't too childish. After a couple of moments I broke out into a smile and yelled, "I got it!" Everyone gave a small jump at that.

"Ok, this is about the Rise of the Guardians." Ok so it wasn't Disney. Sue me. It happened to be one of the last movies I watched before I died.

"So there was once a boy named Jack who liked to play tricks and have fun. One day he was out skating with his sister,"

"What's skating?"

"It's when you strap thin pieces of metal to your feet and move about on the ice. Don't interrupt!"

"Why would someone want to do that?"

"Cause it's fun, now shut up! Where was I?"

"Anywho Jack and his sister were out skating when the ice started to crack under the sister's skates. Now Jack had a shepherd's pole with him and he distracted his sister to make her come closer before he swung her back to the bank before falling through the ice himself and dying,"

"Is that the story?"

"No! Stop interrupting!"

"Since Jack had died saving his sister the Man in the Moon decided to turn him into Jack Frost. The personified spirit of winter,"

"That's ridiculous. There cannot be a man in the moon. Everyone knows that Elirovir's spirit resides as the moon." Cue the hippy. Of course he would believe a woman was the moon. Annnnd all my doubts regarding his hippy status died little stoned deaths. Man, even other hippies would probably worship him as their hippy god or something.

"Hippy! It's just a story! The Man in the Moon is a myth. The moon is nothing but a big rock that separated from the earth billions of years ago and got caught in the gravitational pull of the earth's center and therefore rotates as a natural satellite, influencing the tides. Duh."

All I got back from that little educational lecture were blank looks. I groaned. It was like trying to educate a snail!

"Back to the story. Jack, due to the trauma of drowning I'm assuming, forgot all about his past. And for three hundred years he wandered the earth bringing winter and not being believed in."

Pippin had raised his hand looking like he wanted to ask a question, so with a sigh I nodded towards him, "Yes?"

"What does being believed in have to do with anything?"

"Well the Guardians have to be believed in, in order to be seen."

"Who are the other Guardians?"

"If you would let me finish you would know!"

…

"You're not a very good story teller are you?"

"Augh! Screw it!"