The Lord of the Flies
Author: Slytherstein
Rating: T
Spoilers: Return of the King
Genre: Humor/Adventure
Main Character(s): Frodo Baggins, Samwise Gamgee, Smeagol and Rosie Cotton (and "Pete the fly", of course)
Secondary Character(s): Bilbo Baggins
Ship(s): N/A
Summary: The untold story of a tiny LOTR character. And, one day, Frodo, Sam, Smeagol and Rosie sit down and decide to write a story about this fly. A very important fly, who happened to be around during a very pivotal moment. Bilbo read their story, and decided to add an Epilogue.
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters; they belong to the brilliant J. R. R. Tolkien's Lord of the Rings trilogy.
A/N: This was a group collaboration with three of my sisters (The Teal Rose and Lehrain), and my brother (Requiem of the First). IMPORTANT: Smeagol's writing is written in all caps, Frodo's is italicized, Sam's is normal, and Rosie's is bold and italicized. Bilbo's epilogue is in bold.
"The Lord of the Flies"
…
ONE DAY THERE WAS A SMALL FLY. HIS NAME WAS PETE. HE WAS THE SMALLEST FLY. He flew about, simply minding his own business, when he overheard an argument down by the stream one night.
It was between two other flies, some of the biggest in his swarm.
"What could they be arguing about?" he wondered to himself.
He decided to get a little closer and listened. The small fly hid behind a nearby rock, out of sight from the other two bigger flies.
"We need to get rid of him. He's a disgrace to the swarm, and he's completely useless."
WHAT COULD THEY BE TALKING ABOUT? NO…WHO WAS A BETTER QUESTION, ACTUALLY. THE FLY, PETE (REMEMBER?), DECIDED TO LISTEN FURTHER. HE MIGHT CATCH SOMETHING ABOUT THEIR PLANS.
"Pete has been a nuisance since he joined the swarm," one said, the little fly's eyes widened at that. They were talking about him?! What was he to do now? Where could he go?
They wanted to get rid of him…did they mean kill him? Either way, it didn't bode well for Pete, and he made a decision then and there. He would have to leave. If they wanted him gone so badly, surely they would be fine with the idea of him just leaving on his own, right? With an abrupt turn, then, he decided to fly away, right away! Who knew how long he had? Best to leave as quickly as possible.
He flew along the stream, which was so big to the little fly it was almost like an ocean. He turned back every now and then to make sure no other flies were following him. Good…they weren't. As the sun began to rise over the hills around him, he saw something shining in the blue waters. He stopped in his tracks, instantly drawn to the glistening object.
As he narrowed his eyes, focusing in on it, he slowly went towards it. "What could that be?" he thought to himself. However, he was pulled from his focus by a faint murmuring in the distance, across the river.
"WHOSE VOICES ARE THESE?" PETE WONDERED ALOUD. COULD THEY POTENTIALLY HELP THE POOR FLY? HE COULD SURE USE IT. YES, HE COULD.
"OH…" PETE'S, THE FLY'S, ATTENTION WAS DRAWN BACK TO THE SHINY, PRETTINESS FROM THE WATER. IT LOOKED…RED W/ AN ORANGE-ISH GLOW. FIRE! THE SOURCE OF THE VOICES HAD FIRE! YES! FLIES WERE AFRAID OF FIRE THESE DAYS, BUT NOT PETE. HE WAS SMALL AND WOULDN'T BE CAUGHT BY THE FLAMES.
Or, rather, despite the stirring and haunting fear churning within him, he was courageous and was even somewhat drawn to the danger the fire posed. Decision made, he turned towards it, the bright glow serving as a beacon to the little fly. Upon reaching the campsite, he saw a group of ten people, all sitting around the fire in the center and chatting amongst themselves. They didn't seem to have noticed him yet.
He steeled himself and began flying in closer, slowly, quietly, happy that the chatter of their voices prevented them from hearing the low "hum" that his wings mad as he progressed forward. However, as he drew toward the flames, he jumped back, as one sporadic tongue leapt out toward him. This…really was dangerous! His heart raced, but just as he built his resolve once more, one of the people noticed him! Oh no!
The person stood and made to swat at him. He quickly flew out of the way of the hand, but only to be swatted at yet again. This time, if he wanted to dodge the hand, he would have to move back…towards the dangerous fire. Time seemed to move in slow motion as he pondered which way he should go.
"Well…if I move back, I'll have a chance."
Decision made, he closed his eyes and flew quickly backwards.
He stayed still a moment, heat no longer surrounding him, before slowly opening his eyes. Was he…dead? No…he'd survived!
"I'M INCREDIBLE!" PETE EXCLAIMED TRIUMPHANTLY.
HE HAD SURVIVED THE FIRE JUST AS HE THOUGHT HE WOULD. HE WAS THE SMALLEST AND THE FASTEST FLY. WAS HE INVINCIBLE?! NO. NO, THAT WAS TOO FAR. LOOKING BACK AT THE SWATTING PERSON (BECAUSE HE COULD STILL BE IN DANGER FROM HIM) HE SAW THAT HE WAS…AN IDIOT. HE ASSUMED HE DIED IN THE FIRE. WELL, BETTER FOR HIM, RIGHT?
He decided it would be best to keep moving, and so he turned and continued on his journey, feeling immensely triumphant. He had faced the fire and emerged unscathed! He was better than the entire swarm of flies put together! A new ambition formed within his mind then. He would start his own swarm of flies. He would be their leader and then seek vengeance against those who cast him aside.
'Yes,' he thought as he traveled toward the rising sun. 'I will become legendary!'
He continued on in like manner all day, feeling quite pleased with himself. He stayed along the stream, the long, winding stream, fearing nothing he came across, and realizing that he managed to survive each and every challenge he faced. He spoke with a few flies as he past them, relaying his plans, and his expeditions, his triumphs, and they all seemed exceedingly impressed.
Pete laughed in his throat as night began to shroud the world once more, as moonlight danced off the stream's reflective surface. Everything was proceeding so perfectly for him! He was getting everything he wanted! He heard a loud shriek that pierced the night then, and it immediately drew his attention.
"What's this?" he wondered, and began to fly in that direction. "Mmm…something here smells delectable!" the fly thought aloud, picking up on an odor as he neared. 'What is that?' he asked himself, eyes landing on a strange, pale creature crawling towards the edge of the river. He…it? seemed to be…talking to himself…and answering, as if another…person? existed inside it. It was a different voice, a different face he wore when answering.
'What is that thing?' He slowly flew towards the creature, filled with curiosity.
CURIOUS, INDEED. CURIOSITY WAS THE PERFECT WORD TO DESCRIBE THE FEELING PETE FELT. HE STOPPED SHORT OF THE CREATURE (SINCE THAT SEEMED LIKE A GOOD WORD TOO) TO GET A GOOD LOOK. HE HAD BIG BLUE EYES THAT WERE THE SIZE OF TENNIS BALLS PLANTED RIGHT ON THE PALE CREATURE'S HEAD. STRANGE. MHM. HE HEARD MORE TALKING, ALMOST ARGUING, AND THIS CRAZY LOOKING THING HAD HIS EYES TRAINED ON THE STREAM. ON…HIS REFLECTION. HOW ODD. HE HEARD THE MENTION OF A FOREIGN WORD. WHAT WAS A HOBBIT? HE DECIDED TO LISTEN LONGER.
And the longer he listened, the more disturbed he became. This creature was arguing and plotting to kill! The fly was immobilized then, struck by the startling irony of this situation. The memory of the betrayal of his swarm began to plague him, a hurt he had been suppressing and replacing with only anger. Looking to the creature then, he began to wonder with a sudden foreign heroic feeling, if he should just let hits happen. Should he…try and help?!
He couldn't decide. For that matter…what could he do? Despite how invincible and even legendary he had been feeling, he was only…a small fly. Just when he was deliberating, he felt a sudden relief resulting when someone came up behind the increasingly contemptible creature and smacked him against the side of the head with something metal. Was that…a pot? And that must be one of the Hobbits! The ones he was planning to betray! So, they had heard.
The relief…it was easing the once immobilized fly. And then the other awoke. Two Hobbits? Yes. There were two of them. So…these were hobbits. What…interesting creatures they were. Wait…but the other hobbit, who only recently awoke, was being turned against the other from the lies this pale creature was spouting. He hadn't heard his plans, had he?
That was it, his decision was made. He was done. He couldn't just stand there and watch this horrid scene unravel before his eyes. He charged towards his head, arms extended forward, ready to attack.
'Smeagol?' he thought, when the creature said the word. 'What was a—?'
*SMACK!*
~ THE END ~
Epilogue
…
The irony of such things… Hahahaha. Perhaps this small creature believed himself to be a fly of legend, how wrong he was. To think that his life was ended so simply, so quickly; haha, not that unlike the pitiful and pathetic creature known as Smeagol's was… How sad, but is that not he irony of the entire situation? Perhaps Smeagol lived his life very similarly to the fly's, believing himself to be invincible when he found the Ring, but having his life end so abruptly form the very thing he cared so much about… Very sad indeed, but such is life, and we needn't be upset about that, now should we? Anyway, life continues forward as it always does and several stories like this fly's shall continue to repeat again and again, but what a fortunate event to die at.
A/N: Well, there it was. Hope you enjoyed it ;)
