These are inspired by WrittenMagic2's fic "It's All My Pug's Fault," which is an excellent example of those all-to-few fics which place the Fellowship in the 21st century, rather than a 21st century person (*cough*girl*cough*) falling into Middle Earth. I love these kinds of stories, but I can't find very many of them, which is really a shame because it's such a huge opportunity for humor. So anyway, I wrote this first one down out of my many ideas, and I plan to write more! There will be a bit of actual story out of necessity (I mean, I've gotta give our modern woman a character, and I can't do that without at least some backstory and circumstance explanation), but mostly these are just going to be short, funny drabbles and lots of fluff. (If I'm misusing those terms, please do tell me.)
Well, this is only my second title on here, so I hope you like it! Reviews are greatly appreciated! :)
"What, in the name of all the Valar," muttered Boromir, "is that?"
The Fellowship stood huddled together in the grass at the edge of a wide strip of some kind of beige stone. Behind them and to the right stood a large white house constructed of some strange wood-like material, but that wasn't what the group was staring at in trepidation and horrified curiosity.
In front of them, on the smooth stone that lacked any signs of being laid or cobbled, sat an object which utterly baffled the nine men. The thing was silver, shiny, and quite large. It rested on four round, black objects which resembled wheels, but they were unlike any wheels the Fellowship had ever seen before. Dark gray squares ran lengthwise down the sides of the contraption, hugging the top edge, and large rectangles of the same material were on both the front and back. Out from under the front rectangle there protruded something that strongly resembled a snout, on the sides of which there were white-and-yellow patches that looked like eyes.
"I would say that it seems almost some form of…carriage," murmured Gandalf, "but for that muzzle-like protrusion at the front, and the absence of any place for the driver to sit."
"Maybe he sits on the top. That is probably what those rails are for." Merry gestured to the black bars running along the top of the mysterious object.
"Or sits or stands on the front. Maybe that is why the snout thing is there—it's a platform," added Pippin interestedly. Merry made a noise of disbelief. "I doubt that. He'd likely fall off the moment it started to move; it's all open; there is nothing to secure him. On the top, however, he has rails to keep him from falling."
"Those bars don't rise very far off the top," Sam said doubtfully. "Like as not they wouldn't stop no one from fallin' off, even us hobbits."
Frodo, who had thus far hung back behind the others, spoke up. "It is strange and ominous, whatever it is. Those patches on the muzzle look too much like eyes; I feel as though they are staring at me." The Ring-bearer looked pale, and he was clutching his chest, where the Ring hung on its chain under his shirt. Aragorn moved closer to the hobbit and put a hand on his shoulder in a reassuring gesture. Frodo gazed up at the Ranger gratefully, but also with the tiniest trace of suspicion and fear. Aragorn caught the nervousness in his expression and moved away again, brow troubled.
Legolas and Gandalf now approached the presumed carriage, the Elf with dagger drawn. Glamdring remained sheathed at the wizard's side, but nonetheless the old man was tensed, ready to draw it at any moment. The two Men weren't far behind; Boromir held his sword at the ready, but Aragorn's empty hands were at his sides.
Legolas hesitantly reached out his free hand and lightly rested his fingertips on the carriage's cool shell. "Whatever it is, it is not a living thing," he said without turning his head. "It is utterly lifeless beneath my hand."
Gandalf, too, was running his hands over the object, frowning. "This is a strange thing indeed… This material is not one that I have ever seen or heard of in all my days. It is some kind of strange metal, neither iron nor silver, nor even mithril. Legolas?"
"Nay," the Elf replied. "It is of no substance that I know of."
Boromir now stepped close to the thing, peering at his reflection in the dark gray panels. Suddenly, something caught his eye, and he refocused his gaze to look past his reflection. "It is indeed a carriage!" he gasped. "See, these panels are windows, and there are seats inside!" The three others examining it also peered into the panels, shading their eyes against the glare, and they too saw the seats: in the back, a soft-looking gray bench, with three blocks of the same material placed evenly along the top. In the front were two seats that looked more like strange chairs, also with the soft blocks on the top.
"What is that, do you think?" Aragorn asked Gandalf, indicating the round wheel-like thing that was mounted in front of the far front seat. The wizard only shook his head in bafflement.
"Well, let us open it, and we shall see," said Boromir, grasping one of the short streamlined bars on the side. It was attached at both ends, so it wouldn't turn, and so Boromir tried pulling. The bar moved outward some, but no door opened. He tugged again, harder, but still with no result.
Gimli, who had approached the carriage when it became clear it wasn't going to attack, hefted his axe. "I'll open it for ye," he roared, and swung the axe down on one of the windows. The four men leapt away just in time, and the hobbits, who had begun to edge forward, stumbled back again.
The moment the window shattered, a deafening blast like that of a horn sounded from the carriage. The eye-like patches suddenly blazed to life, flashing, their light rivaling only Gandalf's staff in brightness.
Mayhem broke out among the Fellowship. The hobbits, trying to run, stumbled and lay where they fell, hands over their ears. Legolas almost dropped his dagger as his hands instinctively rushed up to cover his ears, but he fought against the impulse and leapt backward, battle ready, eyes watering at the pain of the noise. Aragorn and Gandalf drew their swords, but stood unsure of what to do, for there was nothing to attack. Boromir, wincing, stood over the hobbits with sword raised, ready to defend. Frodo lost his inner struggle and grabbed at the Ring, jamming it on his finger—but nothing happened; he didn't disappear. None of the others noticed except for Sam.
"Gandalf, what are we to do?" shouted Aragorn over the din. Before the wizard could reply, Gimli gave his own answer in the form of a violent attack on the vehicle. This, however, had no effect in stopping the blasts and the flashing lights, but only added loud thunks and crunches to the noise, coupled with the Dwarf's bellowed battle cries.
"AAAAGGHHH! WHAT THE HECK?! WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO MY CAR?!" A horrified screech rent the air, and everyone's head whipped around to look at the house. At the door stood a young woman with a completely overwhelmed expression on her face and a tiny black object in her hand. She rushed over to the honking vehicle and ran around to the far front side, the side that had the wheel in front of the seat. The Fellowship didn't see what she did, but the deafening noise and the flashing lights ceased. The woman reappeared around the back of the damaged carriage and crossed her arms, expression thunderous.
"Uh-oh," muttered Sam. "Now we're in for it."
NB: The car is a generic silver SUV; just telling you for visualization purposes. I probably didn't make that very clear in my description. :/