A/N: I wrote this several months ago for my sister's Tolkien magazine (hence why it's kinda short), and only just found it amidst a bunch of other unfinished stories. I hope you enjoy!

Cuthalion97, this is for you! It's weirdness and humor rolled into one. ;)

Aragorn crept through Moria as stealthily as a cat. He grinned to himself – a wide, self-satisfied smirk. He had escaped from the morbid, depressing, and unending ramblings of Gandalf, who was seemingly obsessed with moaning about Ori's creepy writings. At the first opportunity that showed itself, the Ranger had snuck off down a separate hallway, intent on getting out of the mines and meeting up with his companions at their rendezvous – Lórien.

Aragorn's smile faltered slightly, and he paused. He was well aware that he was being watched from above, but he pretended indifference. Opening his mouth, he tried to sing a merry song picked up during his stay in Rivendell, but all that came out was a croak. He cleared his throat from all the dust and grime before trying a second time.

Strains of 'la-lollies' and 'how jolly's' echoed through the chambers and arches as the Ranger made his way onwards. Unfortunately for Aragorn, as much as it served to cheer him up and keep up his slightly-dampened morale, it also woke one of Moria's largest, fiercest, and grumpiest inhabitants from its afternoon nap.

Stumping out its chamber, a cave troll lumbered down the hall towards the source of the disturbance. Menacing growls ripped from its throat. How dare someone squall so ferociously in his own home? Didn't the intruder know how tired and hungry he was, especially after his unsuccessful day of hunting goblins?

Opening its mouth, the cave troll – who's name, by the way, was Hank – let out a deafening bellow.

Aragorn stopped in his tracks.

Had something just roared at him?

He squinted, trying to see through the grey atmosphere that seemed to create a quivering wall of... something directly in front of him.

Suddenly a big paw grasped him around his middle and he found himself hovering any number of feet above the ground. Giving his helper a friendly smile, Aragorn began to explain his plight. 'Many thanks for the boost. I was just walking along, singing a merry tune, when I heard the most hideous –'

The Ranger broke off in mid-sentence. After studying Hank for a moment, he gave a weak laugh. Thinking swiftly, he gave the troll a strained grin before starting up with a spur-of-the-moment conversation. 'Oh, you must be Bill – I met your brother back in the chamber of Mazarbul. H-he and I got on quite well – we had some deep discussions about the Goblin Eradication Movement here in Moria, and...'

'I ain't got no brothers,' Hank snarled. 'Leastaways, not any live ones. I used to have some, but they were foolish enough to give sass to the balrog.'

Aragorn emitted another weak laugh. 'I guess I have the wrong cave troll, then. I wonder if you would mind putting me down? My father always pushed me to rise to greater heights, but I don't do so well with great distances...'

'Now who is giving who sass?' Hank hollered, giving the poor Aragorn a shake. 'I haven't eaten all day, and you seem like just a morsel as would begin to satiate my hunger.' He opened his mouth wide and prepared to shovel the Ranger in.

'I'm not salted and peppered!' squeaked Aragorn desperately. 'And I've been diagnosed with a very contagious case of indigestion!'

Hank hesitated. He had had indigestion a few too many times, and had no desire to suffer through yet another bout.

Aragorn saw the moment of indecision and took his chance. 'If you so desire, I can easily direct you to a whole roomful of non-contagious meals.'

His interest piqued, Hank put the Ranger on the path before continuing. 'Where might that be? Don't think to fool me; I've searched this whole area of the mine for food, and had nary an ounce of luck.'

'Go down this hall the way I came, take a right on the first intersecting passage, and you'll come to a big chamber. Absolutely filled; you won't have to hunt for days.' Aragorn spoke hurriedly, gesticulating as he gave the directions.

Hank glared at him suspiciously. His hunger had created a dull ache in the pit of his stomach, and he glanced down the hallway. 'You'll stay here and wait for me, just in case I find you've tricked me?' he inquired, his wits dulled by the need for food.

'Absolutely,' Aragorn promised, squashing the guilt he felt for lying. 'I'll be sitting right here.' As though to show his good intent, the Ranger took a seat on a small boulder.

With one last glance, the cave troll took off at a lumbering trot in the direction of Mazarbul. Had he looked behind, he may have seen the small figure of his prospective meal take off at a run towards the opposite end of the passageway.

Some moments later, when Hank reached Mazarbul – or rather, where Mazarbul was supposed to be – he stopped short. Chunks of rock that even he could not lift lay strewn over the floor, dust still rising into the air, threatening to choke the hungry troll. With a roar of anger and betrayal, Hank turned and returned to where he had left Aragorn, only to find the empty boulder, and the Ranger nowhere in sight. Sitting down on the vacated seat, Hank hid his face in his paws and wept great cave troll tears.

A small boulder came loose in the ceiling. It hit Hank's head with a gentle thunk. Another tear rolled down the his cheek.

Life as a cave troll was rough.

Finis