Disclaimer: Any similarities between this story and The Lord of the Rings by JRR Tolkien such as names and places are purely coincidental. If you choose to believe otherwise, that's your fault for fantasizing your dirty thing. Oh, and by the way; 'Moni' had nothing to do with the making of this story or the way it portrays her.

CHAPTER

–1–

A Daring Plan

The dull throb of her aching head combined with the grate of leathery skin against her cheek forced Duri into wakefulness. She looked around, momentarily disorientated, until she saw the huge wad of earwax that was sticking out from the ear of an Orc- an Orc whose back she was presently tied to.

Duri groaned and tried to look elsewhere, but all she could focus on was that great, huge glob of orangey goo nestled less than three inches from her face.

"Gross! You need to clean your ear!" Duri said to the Orc.

He ignored her. She tried to pry her hands off from their positions around his neck, but they were tied.

"So what, I'm like your freaking cape and bow tie here…do you talk…at all?" Duri said.

The Orc growled.

"Not to you, you sorry excuse for a Halfling. In my opinion the only thing you would be good for is to eat. But you're too scrawny, you're not worth the reprimand that we would receive from Saruman." said the Orc.

"You know, you really remind me of my sister Mushi, although you do have the personality of Heather in the morning and you have a bit of Michael's acne problem. You also have serious problem with puffy hair; you should really talk to Oli about handling it. And you definitely need to clean your ears." Duri eyed his ear in disgust, "You know, I know this great way to clean your ears. My mom used to do it to us when we were kids. You just take a Q-tip or a piece of tissue and just dig out all that sticky goo. I…" a large fist went up into her face, and she was unconscious again.

A few hours later she regained consciousness, and groaned as her face throbbed with pain. Her nose was bruised, and dried blood was prominent on her cheek. She was still tied to the Orc, but the group was slowing down, and suddenly she was thrown roughly to the parched ground.

"Ow! I can still feel in case you haven't noticed, you know!" she grouched, reaching up her still-tied hands to rub her aching nose.

Right next to her, Merry and Pippin were also thrown, and lay quite still.

Pippin blinked and looked around, but Merry was unconscious, and had a large bloody gash on his forehead.

"Merry! What did you do to him?" Duri said angrily.

The Orcs ignored her.

"They knocked him out a little harder then was necessary, Duri. Besides, he was trying to get the Orc to bite his ropes in exchange for a good word to Ugluk." said Pippin, looking over at her.

"Ugluk?" said Duri questioningly.

"The one in command. You know the ugly one up front, who speaks in an extra weird growl. He has the puffiest hair, and the nastiest eyes." Pippin pointed with his bound hands to the Orc up in front, who was giving commands in a booming growl.

"Oh he looks like Mushi alright. In fact, I'm starting to wonder whether she really did follow us to middle earth." said Duri.

She looked around her, her feet were bound tightly as were her hands and she was surrounded by Orcs both big and small. They were all gathered in a circle, growling about something. Duri found that the language the Orcs spoke was actually the language of men, just a very mixed up version under their voices.

"This is all we get to eat? We usually get more meat then this!" grumbled one Orc.

"Tell it to Ugluk. He's giving it to the Halflings." grouched the other Orc.

"Then maybe they should start compensating for our loss." the first Orc looked over greedily at Duri.

"I don't like the way this conversation is going, Duri. We could end up with half our legs eaten off." Pippin whispered.

"Or you could end up with no legs at all! Lie quiet or I'll tickle you with this!" the first Orc had heard them whispering, and was waving a large, crooked dagger in their faces.

"That would be great. I have spot over there that really needs itching." Duri smiled, trying to ignore the wad of earwax sticking out from behind the Orcs earlobe.

"Curse the Isenguarders! Why did I have to be in a sentry with Ugluk! Ugluk u bagronk sha pushdog Saruman-glob bubhosh skai!"the Orc muttered off in an angry snarl.

"Um, sorry, I can't understand you. Maybe you need counselling. My brother Daniel could help you there, I'm sure he knows a lot of Russian psychiatrists you can see." Duri winced as the Orc grabbed her neck, squeezing the air out of her.

"Um…air!" Duri gasped, as the Orc let go.

He walked off and began to debate with some other Orcs. Apparently there was some disagreement about whether or not they should kill the prisoners.

"There's no time to kill them properly, no time for play on this trip." growled one Orc.

"That can't be helped. But why not kill them quick, kill them now? They're a cursed nuisance, and we're in a hurry. Evening's coming on, and we out to get a move on." insisted another.

"Orders," said a third voice in a deep growl. " Kill all but NOT the Halflings; they are to be brought back ALIVE as quickly as possible. That's MY orders."

"What are they wanted for?" asked the Orc who had been assaulting Duri. His name was Grishnakh, and he was eyeing Duri with an evil gleam, as if he couldn't wait to get his teeth into her thigh, "Do they make good sport?"

"No, I heard that one of them has got something, something that's wanted for the War, some elvish plot or other. Anyway, all three will be questioned, especially the girl." answered the first Orc.

"Are you quite sure that that thing is a girl? It looks more like cross between a Goblin and Saruman." laughed Grishnakh.

"Oh ha, ha, laugh it up. I'm sure Saruman would take that as a severe compliment. I am the most beautiful of all the Hobbits!" Duri said proudly from her vantage point.

"No you're not, even Frodo's great aunt, Lobelia, looks better then you would if you were a Hobbit!" said Pippin angrily.

"Pippin, stuff it, would you, I'm trying to work here!" Duri said, "Besides," she added with an injured sniff, " everyone knows that even a pig looks better then anyone in Frodo's gene pool."

"Is that all you know? Why don't we search them ourselves and find out what's so special about them? We might even find something we could use ourselves." said Grishnakh with an evil grin.

"That's a very interesting remark, but I may have to report that to Saruman. The prisoners are NOT to be searched or plundered. Those are MY orders." said Ugluk.

"Mine too," added another Orc with a white handprint on his armour and his face, "Alive and as captured; no spoiling."

"Well those aren't our orders! We have come all the way from the mine to avenge our folk. I wish to kill, and then return to the North." said Grishnakh.

"Then you can wish again." replied Ugluk snottily, "I'm the leader, I make the rules. We return to Isenguard by the shortest route."

"Last I checked, the Great Eye was still in charge!" grouched Grishnakh.

"The Great Eye, bah! He's got no guts outside of his own sty. And neither have you lot, for that matter. If it hadn't been for us, you'd all have run away by now. We are the fighting Uruk Hai. We did all the work. We slew the great warrior, we took the prisoners, we are the servants of Saruman the wise, the White Hand. We did everything, not you. It's only fair that we decide which route we take. I am Ugluk, I have spoken." said Ugluk haughtily.

"You have spoken more then enough, Ugluk. If you were in Lugburz, things would be different. They would agree with me that your swollen head needs removing from its shoulders. They might also ask where your strange ideas came from. Did they perhaps come from Saruman? Well, I wouldn't be surprised. Who does he think he is, setting up on his own with his filthy white badges? They would most certainly agree with me that Saruman is a fool, and that that Halfling is not a female but a hybrid! Swine is it? How do you folk like being called Swine by the muckrakers of a dirty wizard? It's Orc-flesh they eat, I'll warrant!" said Grishnakh.

Apparently that was some sort of insult, as a bunch of screams in Orc-speech broke out, and pretty soon they were resorting to blows. A few Orcs went flying hither and thither, and Duri and Pippin did their best to avoid being squished by the dead Orcs falling all over.

"Well it's nice to know we're in such good hands." commented Pippin, as a dead Orc fell on top of Duri.

She groaned and tried to ignore its smelly underarms. "Gross, Pippin, give me a hand here!" she pleaded.

"Give me a hand…that's it! Duri, quick, rub your ropes on his knife, there!" said Pippin hurriedly.

"Okay, okay. It's just that he's holding it right next to my ear, oh okay then." Duri pulled up her hands and rubbed the knot against the jagged knife.

In a few moments, the ropes came free, and Duri rubbed her wrists in relief. Noticing that the fighting had died down, and an Orc was heading towards them, she quickly tied her hands in a trick knot that Oli had taught her. Then she yelled, "Oi waitress, waitress. There's a gross creature in my food. Oh my, it looks like an Orc!"

Aragorn lay, his head pressed to the ground, listening. Oli, Moni and Gimli were catching their breath.

"This isn't very healthy, I don't really think Aragorn should make us run so fast all the time." Oli puffed, leaning on her knees.

"It's all that extra fat," said Legolas haughtily, "It's finally caught up with you."

"Hey, all that I've eaten for the past ten days has been lembas and a few odd sausages. That's it! And whatever measly amount of food I've managed to consume has been evaporated by all this running." Oli said.

"Yeah Legolas, not all of us are twigs." Moni added.

"Be quiet, all of you, I'm trying to listen to the vibrations in the ground!" said Aragorn visibly peeved and obviously ignoring their demands for a break.

Oli proceeded to do a jig all over the ground.

"I'm getting something…the Orcs, they're behind us."

"No, it's just Oli, doing a jig, for some crazed reason." said Legolas.

"Olivia, what are you doing?" Aragorn said angrily.

"I want to find them just as much as you do, Aragorn, but if we don't stop for a rest sometime this year we're all going to be just as dead as I'm sure Frodo is right now!" said Oli.

* * *

"Frodo, we're lost! We are so going in circles!" Heather protested, as they wound their way over the jagged rocks of the Boundary cliffs.

"No we're not! I know what I'm doing! They didn't call me eagle eye at school for nothing." said Frodo proudly.

"That was because he was a damn snitch." muttered Sam to Heather.

"Yes we are lost! Look, you remember when we broke off a branch on that weasel bush to make a fire? Well, look! There's that damn weasel bush, there, right there!" Heather pointed towards the bush.

"She's right, Mr Frodo. Let's face it, we're lost." said Sam.

"You're lost, you mean. I know these mountains like the sole of my foot!" said Frodo.

"Well that would explain why we're lost." muttered Sam.

"Eh?" said Frodo.

"He means, stupid, that your foot is so filthy you can't even see the skin." Heather explained.

"Speaking of not seeing anything, Mr Frodo, all I see is rocks." said Sam.

"Yes, I think it's time that someone else takes the lead…and the Ring." said Heather.

"No!" Frodo lunged at Heather, knocking her over, grabbing Sting and shoving it in her face.

Heather grabbed Frodo's arm and twisted it, then kicked him off. He slammed against a rock, blinking and looking bewildered. Heather got up, eyes smouldering.

"That's it. I say we kill him, Sam, and take the Ring ourselves. That way at least we know that he's not going to suddenly stab us…me, in the back at night." Heather said, her hand twitching for her bow.

"Don't be stupid, Heather, of course we're not going to kill him." said Sam.

Frodo smiled at Heather.

"Yet." Sam added threateningly.

Heather smiled triumphantly back at Frodo, who scowled.

"If you don't stop trying to kill Heather, Mr Frodo, we might just have to take the Ring." said Sam.

"Which would, of course, mean killing you." Heather added.

"What…what's that?" Frodo pointed to a shadowy spider-like creature crawling headfirst down a cliff a far ways off.

"Gollum." said Sam.

"Duh, you didn't know he was following us, I mean, I heard him mile away. And they didn't call me fox-ears at school, I just have excellent hearing." said Heather.

"So what are we going to do about him? I don't like the thought of him throttling us in our sleep…or at least, two of us." said Sam.

"Yes, you're right, Sam. Heather would be no loss." said Frodo grouchily.

"Dream on, Frodo. I mean, the only reason you don't have an arrow through that belly of yours is cause of Sam's intercession. Then again, we could always just put Frodo on guard duty, which by the way will happen tonight anyway, and then Gollum will kill him for us." Heather mumbled, as they continued walking.

* * *

"You, on your feet. Ugluk says you're good to walk, fortunately for me…and you." said Grishnakh grouchily; grabbing Duri's arm a little harder then was necessary.

"Ow, you're hurting my arm, let go! I'm almost one hundred percent sure I can't walk." Duri said, feeling her sore legs, and her sore ego.

"You'll walk. You'll walk even if you have to move one foot at a time! Because I am not carrying you all the way to Isenguard!" said Grishnakh.

"Well duh, who doesn't move one foot at a time when they walk. If you move both at the same time it's called jumping, but then again, Orcs like you on the other hand probably wouldn't know that since, lets face it, you're dumb, but anyhow I'm sure we can work around this illiteracy. I …ouch!" Duri was pulled up by Grishnakh, as he forced a terrible-tasting liquid down her throat.

She felt it burn her throat as it travelled down her pipe, but suddenly her legs felt strengthened and she found she was able to stand up. Pippin was given the same drink, and was soon standing next to Duri.

"Leave Merry, would you, he's sick for God's sake!" said Duri as Grishnakh moved in on Merry.

He stopped and grabbed Duri's chin, lifting her at least two feet off of the ground.

"You think this is a pleasure ride?" he growled, his foul breath overwhelming Duri, "You think that this is a bed and breakfast?"

"Huh, breakfast, did someone say something about breakfast?" Merry sat up, rubbing his head.

"Ah, just on time. We were afraid you'd miss it." Grishnakh poured the Orc-draught down Merry's throat and hauled him up.

"Well that was certainly the most revolting breakfast I've ever had. And I still have a cut on my forehead, it's going to leave a scar unless you do something about it." said Merry to an Orc nearby.

"Let the maggots fester in it until they are eating your very insides for all I care, and I'm the most caring of all the Orcs." said one very ugly Orc.

"I dispute that, actually, cause we'd be dead by now if it wasn't for Saruman, so I'd say he's the most caring, don't you think?" said Duri.

"He is no Orc, you half-formed Halfling! Now move!" The Orc shoved her forwards.

* * *

"We rest here. I suggest you all eat." said Aragorn.

"Oh, you do, do you? So now we need your permission to eat?" said Gimli angrily, as they all threw down their luggage and collapsed on the ground near a cluster of shrivelled trees.

"No, I was merely suggesting that…" Aragorn began, but Legolas cut him off with a wave of his hand.

"Aragorn, hasufel andrindi nemara. Vardo tellumar Eeo luini ieleni." he sighed and crossed his arms, looking off in the distance.

"What about it?" said Aragorn.

"The incessant running." replied Legolas.

"Whatever he's saying, I agree with him." said Moni quickly.

"Pass the chicken legs, Gimli, I believe I entrusted them to you." said Aragorn.

"Well believe what you want, but I hope you're not the seeing is believing type because I remember you giving them to Legolas." said Gimli, getting out crumbly lembas bread, "That's it! Who's been sitting on my bag again? Moni, I distinctly remember…"

Moni cut him off there and then. " Now you stop right there, Gimli son of Gloin! You know perfectly well that one of those lembas things break whenever someone five meters away breathes! Besides," she added " if you were sleeping on that last night, no wonder they're broken."

Gimli stood up and lunged, but Legolas held him back.

"Yes, yes, hasufel andrindi whatever it is, I know." he sat back down, and scowled.

After a moment of silence Aragorn spoke, "Well I'm still waiting for those chicken legs."

"Get them yourself. In fact, find them yourself!" grouched Oli.

"And how do you propose I do that?" said Aragorn.

"I don't know, you're a Ranger…sniff them out." Oli said, leaning back.

Legolas reached into his pack and threw Aragorn a greasy, lembas-tasting, half-eaten chicken leg.

"Um…is there another one?" asked Aragorn.

"No there is not. Eat that or nothing!" Legolas' usually equilibrium-like personality was beginning to fray.

"There were six legs. You mean to tell me you ate all of them?" said Oli.

"No I didn't. There's one left!"

"Just…just forget it." said Aragorn, getting out his own stock.

Oli pulled out a tissue and blew her nose with a horrendous snorting noise. All the running combined with having to sleep alfresco on the grass wasn't helping and she had come down with a bad cold.

Legolas turned green and looked away, disgusted. Gimli rolled his eyes. Aragorn tried not to notice.

But Gimli noticed Aragorn's lips as he bit into the chicken, the saliva pouring from his teeth, and the general sound of smacking and slurping, as well as chewing. He made a disgusted look and looked over at the Elf.

Oli was blowing her nose, then seeing that he was staring at her, she turned and put one finger to her nostril, then blew vigorously down the other, causing a fountain of snot to shoot out at Legolas who was pointedly staring.

He looked at Gimli in disgust, and began to twang his bowstring. It made the most horrendously annoying sound, and even Aragorn looked up from his smacking.

Gimli, in reply, began to sing in Dwarfish as loud and as off key as he could, which was very off key.

Moni had nodded off and was now humming a weird song in her sleep.

Aragorn's jaw clenched, and he kept trying to eat, until he caught a bit of the fire from Oli's latest sneeze. That was it. The last straw. He exploded. He got up and grabbed Legolas' bow, prodded Moni with his foot forcing her to wake up, pinched Oli's nose and stuffed the half-eaten chicken leg in Gimli's mouth.

"Give me back my bow, this instant, you…you…" Legolas was at a loss for words.

"Freak?" suggested Oli.

" …Freak, you!" Legolas snatched his bow.

"Oh yes? Well you…stink!" Aragorn said, his eyes wide and bloodshot.

"And what happens now? Now I'm supposed to cry at your lame insult, is that it?" Legolas shouted.

"Shhh, Legolas, hasufel andrindi nemara." whispered Oli.

Gimli was on the verge of hyperventilation.

"Great, that's just what we need, more Elvish!" he growled.

"It was a saying, Gimli. It means…oh never mind." Oli lent over and pinched Aragorn's nose in exchange for blocking up hers.

Aragorn was sitting down, eyes wide and bloodshot, and hair fritzled. He was obviously having a nervous breakdown.

"Okay lets just all calm down here." said Legolas.

"Legolas, I think you just need some sleep," Moni placated him.

"Yeah, speak for yourself, Elfie. I'm not the one who's hyperventilating." said Oli, "Pass the non-communal water canteen. I'm parched!"

* * *

Heather and the two Hobbits had been walking over steep rocks and cliffs for so long now, and tempers were beginning to seriously flare as they came to a steep drop-off.

"Well, I guess the only way we're going to get down is to climb." said Sam, "I wonder how sharp the drop is?"

"We could always throw Frodo down and find out." muttered Heather.

"Well if I was dead I wouldn't be able to let you know, would I?" Frodo crossed his arms and swayed a little as he looked down.

"What's wrong, Mister Frodo?" said Sam.

"I don't like heights." he whined.

"Look, would you quit moping about everything all the time, it's driving me insane." said Heather.

"Er" added Frodo vehemently.

"Oh what, now I'm supposed to cry, huh, is that it, now I'm supposed to cry?" Heather shoved Frodo, and he collapsed dramatically with a holler, which echoed throughout the entire rock face.

After a moment of silence Sam looked uncertainly at Heather. "So…who's going down first then?" They both looked smugly at Frodo.

"Ahhh!" Frodo yelled as Heather and Sam threw him off the cliff.

The rope tied to his waist caught him just inches from the bottom. He was still screaming by the time Heather and Sam had shimmied down after him.

"Oh shut up, will you? We've bloody untied you and you're still here screaming. God!" Heather crossed her arms and breathed in and out one or two times to calm herself down.

"Wait a second. What about the rope? How do we get it down?" Frodo said once he had stopped his snivelling.

"How could I have forgotten about that? Stupid me," Sam hit himself on the head.

Heather put her hands on her hips. "Well we might as well put up a big sign post in bright colours up as well, saying WE WENT THIS WAY in case Gollum doesn't see the rope."

"Now calm down, Heather, I say we just send someone to climb back up and get it…and climb back down." said Sam.

"Oh well, guess it's just going to have to be Frodo then, isn't it. After all, he did point it out and all." Heather said.

"No, absolutely not. I refuse to take any unnecessary risks. Besides, we don't like heights, do we, precious?" he said as his eyes glassed over and he fingered the Ring with his dirty grotty mitts.

"Oi, cut it out." Sam grabbed Frodo's finger and twisted it until he screamed and let go.

"Alright, I'll go up and get your stupid elfish rope, just make him stop that infernal squealing. We already scream 'retards' as it is. We don't need any help." Heather gave the rope two good tugs to see if it would hold her weight, and it came tumbling down in a spiral on top of her.

"There, you see? Just needed the magic touch." Heather untangled the rope from herself and handed it to Sam, who tucked it away in his pack.

"Well, let's be on our way then." he said.

"No," stated Frodo emphatically. "I've got a severely sprained ankle from when Heather over there shoved me. We're not budging, are we…" Frodo got no further when Heather grabbed him up by his collar and shook him till his teeth chattered.

"Would you stop talking to that Ring? It's really bugging!" she demanded.

"Don't touch me!" Frodo squealed, and kicked her in the shin.

Sam separated the two just as Heather was about to sock Frodo in the face.

"Now, then! We'll get through is much faster if you two aren't constantly trying to kill each other!" Sam stated, "And stay sharp, Heather…we're not alone!"

* * *

Duri, Merry and Pippin trudged wearily along. Ugluk seemed bent on making their lives a living hell. They were all placed in separate parts of the crowd of Orcs, with their hands tied, and an Orc behind them with a whip that he would lash at them if they didn't walk at the speed of 10 mph.

Duri's taskmaster was an Orc she had non-affectionately dubbed Grouchalot. He was big, smelly, hairy and ugly, even for an Orc.

She licked her parched and cracked lips, then turned her head to see if she could spot Merry or Pippin. All she spotted was a whip coming towards her leg. The lash sent a stab of pain through her already throbbing calf. A large welt was forming, and she could feel it.

"Ow! That really hurt! Why do you always have to whip me if I'm not concentrating on the glob of goo in front of me, Grouchalot!" she yelled, only to have her other calf lashed.

Merry heard the yell and looked in that direction instantly. He saw Duri looking very grouchy, a tear or two trickling down her cheek. He didn't blame her. After all, she was just a child and was probably in a lot of pain. Not as much as he was in, he silently reminded himself.

The Orc behind him seemed to think he was a drum or something. Every five paces he would whip his calf, forming some kind of sick beat to which he would then hum to in a terribly off-key voice. Merry did not find it very amusing.

Pippin, however, was conniving an escape plot even as Merry thought. He stopped marching, and a dozen other Orcs came slamming into him. Using the momentary confusion, he darted skilfully out from the crowd of Uruk Hai, and ran down a narrow gorge.

"He doesn't stand a chance," Merry shouted sadly to Duri, while his taskmaster joined the horde of Orcs chasing after Pippin, "Not in a million years."

It was true. As the Orcs began to gain on Pippin he saw there was no way he was getting out of this, so he decided to leave something to show Aragorn that he was still alive, so he dropped his Elvish broach that came with his cloak in the mud.

"That would've been worth at least 1000 grouts back in Hobbiton." he thought with a sigh, as it fell to the ground. Sure enough, the Orcs caught up with him. He tried not to scream as a whip coiled itself around his leg.

"This is enough, Ugluk," said one panting Uruk Hai, "I say we kill them all, now. That way Sauron still gets what he wants, and we dine like kings tonight!"

"I don't taste very good, honest!" Pippin tried to convince them, only to get another lash with the whip.

"No, those are not our orders." growled Ugluk. Then he turned to Pippin, "But the punishment is only put off, not forgotten. Saruman has ways of making you talk, and ways of making you feel remorse! Now leg it!" Ugluk yelled.