Having almost finished my current effort, I have begun to read some authors long neglected on Fanfiction. Recently, I read "The Long Drop" by Borys68 . Being a believer in strong women, I could not allow it to stand as it was (albeit cleverly) written. I highly recommend you read it first. It is very short. My heart went out to poor Margaret and I determined to help her. WARNING: Both stories contain graphic and disturbing imagery; read at your own risk. None of my other stories are anything like it, I promise!
Revenge Served Hot-Inspired by "The Long Drop" by Borys68
It had been a dream of hers for years. You know, the one where a Tolkien fan somehow manages to be transported into Middle Earth? Once there, Margaret (now named Margivail Morning Daze-that sounded so much more, well, adventurous) would meet and interact with many of the famous characters. She would amaze them with her beauty, skill and intelligence.
Somehow it hadn't worked out that way. The old woman had warned her that the amulet would only transport her into Middle Earth. It was a one way trip, no return. Margivail was fine with that. What could possibly go wrong?
That was demonstrated within a very short time. Plunging through a gray haze, she landed right in front of Thorin's company of dwarves as they left the Shire. Gandalf, while momentarily stunned, soon saw her as an answer to one of his many problems. The dwarves were already complaining that they would have no access to females on such a long trip. 'Behold, an amazingly interesting omen!' he declared pompously.
The dwarves took it from there. Declaring her a gift from Mahal, they told Margivail that she would have the privilege of providing relief for their sexual tensions. Two per night with Thorin having a night to himself. Gloin would remain celibate due to an inconvenient wife at home. Bilbo listened in horror but his protestations were ignored. Gandalf held himself aloof from the procedures. Happy dwarves made for a successful quest.
That had been two weeks ago.
Now Margivail Morning Daze dug her hands into the leaf litter of the forest floor to relieve some of the physical pain and mental humiliation she had just suffered at the hands of Ori. He had brutally sodomized her this night when it was his "turn" to have her.
When she had first arrived in Middle Earth, the thought of sex with dwarves had been briefly tantalizing. After all, most women she knew had that kind of fantasy on occasion. The reality had been much worse. It wasn't only the sex. She was no prude; she had had her share of sexual experiences good and bad. But these were not the dwarves from the movies! These were true Tolkien dwarves. And it wasn't one or two but twelve; they were hairy and smelly; and it never stopped. And now this. If only he had waited a few more days, she would have been gone. She had been squirreling away supplies and thought she finally had enough to make it back to Bree.
But now she wanted to die. Her mind raced as it reviewed her options for suicide. Knife, cliff, water, rope. None was especially appealing or even easy, and the dwarves would prevent it she was sure. Nobody would want to give up their easy lay. As she contemplated her choices, a trick of the night allowed three voices to cut through her pain.
'Ori, that was amazing! I never thought of something like that! I can't wait to try it on my next turn!' She recognized Fili's voice. Kili added his cheers also. 'Me too!' Then there was more laughter. 'Ol' Margivail didn't seem to like it too much though.' More giggles.
'Yes, she squirmed more than usual, but it was fun! I found it in one of my books. You should see some of the other things I have planned,' Ori tittered. For all his apparent innocence, Ori had a mean streak a mile wide. She heard the distinct sound of back slapping and head butting.
Slowly she dragged herself upright, all thoughts of suicide wiped from her mind. White hot anger boiled in her chest. Why should she die? She had done nothing wrong! Her naiveté, what was left, evaporated. Not only had that bastard Ori mistreated her, but the others had watched. And for it to be Kili and Fili! They were the biggest fumblers in a pool of fumblers with no skill at all.
A small voice came from behind her. 'Margivail, I am so sorry. I should have stopped him. I am so sorry, so sorry,' Bilbo cried softly. He had been appalled at her treatment from the very start but his words as always were ignored. Now he was determined to help if he could. 'Tell me what you need. I'll do anything to help.'
Margivail stared at the hobbit and straightened her clothes. She had noted his early disgust, but also his helplessness. The dwarves only laughed when he had protested her debasement. 'You can start by calling me Margaret, Bilbo. Margivail is a stupid name for a stupid girl and that girl is dead.'
Bilbo nodded silently as her mind raced. She knew the book by heart and she realized that the next day or two would present the perfect opportunity for revenge. 'This is what we're going to do….'
As expected, it began to rain heavily later that day. Margaret nodded at Bilbo when she saw Gandalf's horse turn off the path away from the group. The dwarves were all hooded and crouched over their ponies, paying no attention to anything other than their own discomfort. When Gandalf had all but disappeared into the downpour, Margaret followed slowly behind. Bilbo watched the others, but none noted her departure. Step One was complete.
It didn't take long for Gandalf to notice her presence. Pulling his horse to a stop, he turned to face her. 'Well, Margivail, just what do you think you are doing? Do the dwarves know you followed me?'
Margaret lifted her eyes to his and said, 'I-I need a night away, please Gandalf. Just one night of rest!' she whimpered.
The wizard grunted. 'They have been giving you a workout, haven't they? It's your own fault you know. Dwarves see Tall Folk as tools to be used, and you are a very pretty one!' he leered at her. He reached out a finger and stroked her cheek. If he had been a bit younger, he might have enjoyed her services as well, he thought.
'I didn't know what I was getting into. I should have done more research!' She had been rather stupid although she was fairly sure Tolkien had never written such a thing as was happening to her. 'Please, just one night?' she begged again, edging her horse closer to his.
'Well, I suppose it is rather too damp for them to miss you much for one night. Don't make it a habit though to think that I will help all the time. I need those dwarves happy. You made your bed; you must lie in it!' he said with rude joviality.
Gritting her teeth, Margaret said, 'Oh thank you, Gandalf, I am in your debt.'
Turning forward again, the wizard snickered, 'Yes, Margivail, you most certainly are!'
As he turned, Margaret swiftly moved her horse next to his, raised the iron fry pan she had hidden under her cloak, and slammed it into the back of his head. 'My NAME is MARGARET,' she shouted. Gandalf Greyhame, Mithrandir, Olorin whatever the hell you wanted to call him, rolled like a sack of potatoes out of the saddle and thumped to the ground. Margaret smiled. Step Two was complete.
Leaving one wizard trussed up tighter than a Christmas goose, and taking her time, Margaret led her and Gandalf's horse slowly through the woods toward the light of a distant fire. The rain had stopped. At last she came near enough to hear the roaring of the Trolls. Without the delaying tactics of Bilbo and Gandalf, more than half of the dwarves had already been parboiled and stacked to one side like cord wood. It looked as though several had also been enjoyed raw. Their bones gleamed in the firelight.
For a brief moment she felt some regret at seeing Gloin and Thorin among the early victims. Gloin because he had never participated and Thorin because he had treated her with at least some dignity on occasion. As quickly as the thought rose, she suppressed it. Gloin had not helped her and Thorin had agreed to everything as leader. Also, she knew if any of them survived, they would hunt her to the ends of Middle Earth. Dwarves never forgot and they never forgave an insult (or a boiling…) She hooted like an owl to inform Bilbo of her presence and he immediately got to work distracting the trolls.
Gradually the sky lightened and dawn peered over the trees. 'Dawn take you all and be stone to you!' she cried out waving Gandalf's staff above her head. Having come all this way and suffered so much, she was not about to let such an opportunity pass! She was for all her suffering still a fan. The trolls turned to stone as expected. Step Three was complete.
Margaret strolled calmly into the clearing where the last few dwarves cowered in their sacks. She grinned when she realized that Ori, Fili and Kili were among them. For now anyway. She drove the wizard's staff into the ground near Ori's head. She wanted to drive it into his eye, but it was a bit early yet. The dwarves shouted in joy and excitement at her appearance.
'Thank Mahal, Margivail,' Fili cried. 'We're saved! What are you waiting for, get us out of these cursed sacks!' he struggled against the tight rope around his neck.
Margaret smiled at the young dwarf. 'Patience, Fili, patience, all in good time.' She ignored the flailing company and called out for Bilbo. 'Did you find the key, Bilbo?'
The little hobbit appeared from one side. 'Right where you said it would be, Margaret. What do we do now?' The dwarves howled with rage when they realized the hobbit must have been nearby all this time.
Margaret's smile was chilling. 'Now we find some nice sharp weapons.' Leaving the dwarves to shout louder and ever cruder curses, she and Bilbo located the troll cave. The Elven blades were quickly found and gently cleaned of the dust of ages. 'One is Biter, the other Beater; Orcist and Glamdring. Not sure which is which, but I rather like this one,' she said as she hefted the shorter of the two. 'Nice and light weight. Should be easy for me to use,' she said with a smirk.
Bilbo slashed the air with the short knife that she had given him. 'Now what?' he asked curiously. She hadn't explained her plan after turning the trolls to stone.
'Now you stay here, collect as much food and gold as you can find, and try not to listen.' Again the rather evil grin crossed her face. Bilbo shivered uncontrollably at the sight of it. It made his blood run cold and his balls shrivel. Leaving the hobbit in the cave, Margaret went forth to complete Step Four.
Returning to her bagged prey, Margaret leaned on her sword.
'Why don't you help us, wench? Fili asked.
Her eyebrows climbed up her forehead. 'Is that any way to speak to your savior? I could have let those trolls finish the lot of you off.'
'Yes, but you didn't. So now let me out of this sack!' he howled in rage.
Margaret picked up the sword and admired its blade in the golden morning light. 'No, no, I like you just where you are.'
Fili watched her with growing concern. 'Margivail, let us out of these sacks.
'My-name-is-MARGARET!' She shouted at him. The sword flashed out and down. It truly was a marvel. Fili's lower extremities parted from his body with very little effort. His screams rang through the forest. The other dwarves tried to retreat from the bloody blade by wriggling in their sacks. 'Now, now, don't worry, boys. I read all about this in a book. It said I would get great pleasure from it. I'm sure Ori will be happy to explain.' She smiled a reassuring smile as she moved to his side.
The rest of Step Four was simple if a bit messier than the other three. There was crying, pleading, swearing and squirming. The ones who squirmed required a few extra stabs. She liked it when they squirmed. Step Four was complete.
Bilbo had loaded several chests with gold and a few sacks with food by the time she returned. He had done his best to follow her advice and not listen, but some of the screams had been hard to tune out no matter how far he went into the stinking cave, especially the last few. Now she stood before him, the chosen sword red with blood. 'Do you have a handkerchief I can borrow, Bilbo? This sword needs to be cleaned again.'
'Here, Margaret. I take it all went well?' he asked cautiously handing her one of his hankies.
'Quite well. There was a bit of resistance, but all in all, it was very successful.' She carefully ran the handkerchief over the gleaming blade. The memory of the begging and pleading would keep her warm at night for years to come. It was about time women learned to stand up for themselves.
'What about Gandalf? What happened to him?' Bilbo remembered to ask.
'Oh, I suppose he will eventually free himself. Wizards are notoriously difficult to kill, but we will be far from here by then, my little friend. That is no longer a concern of ours.' Dropping the soiled rag, she admired the now clean blade. It would provide many years of useful service.
She wandered over to look at the clothing hanging along the walls. Quickly she stripped off her blood soaked garments and exchanged them with ones from long ago troll victims. 'I never did get to see the Shire. What do you say to a house guest?' She smiled down at him and this time it warmed his heart rather than scared him shitless.
'I like house guests, Margaret! You are more than welcome to stay at Bag End for as long as you like!' he said as he admired her sleek body.
She ruffled the hobbit's hair. 'That is very kind of you, Bilbo. I think we should have about seventy years before anything else of note happens assuming wizards are not as vengeful as dwarves!' Gandalf would hopefully be too busy rounding up new pawns to bother with his own revenge. They loaded the ponies and headed back the way they had come. After yesterday's torrential rain the sky was a sparkling blue. As she noticed the first vultures circling, Margaret wondered what sex with a hobbit was like…
A rather unfortunate end for Thorin and company, but at least this time they deserved it!