Disclaimer: I don't own it! So I can't loan it! And I won't moan (over) it! Ok, done rhyming. But seriously, I don't own anything Tolkien related. I also don't own The Matrix.
A/N: This was written with the help of one of Skyfire's plotbunnies. I'll stick the plotbunny at the end of the author's notes. Hmm….oh, yes. I haven't really checked much grammar, so there may be some mistakes. And just a few more things. I'm using movie-verse in this cuz I couldn't figure out any other way to get Elrond anywhere near Shelob's Lair. And apologies if the Matrix reference doesn't make any sense. I don't know if it will, as I've never seen the movie:). That's about it, so on we go.
The plotbunny this was inspired by: Elrond is lusted after by a rabid hobbit who had been doing laundry in Shelob's Lair.
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"And do they ever listen? Noooo, they never listen! What did I tell him? 'Chuck the ring in the volcano, Isildur, or we're all doomed!' And what does he say? 'Oh, no, Elrond, I'm going to keep it. It's so pretty. What a great souvenir!' Arrgghhh! We're in for it now, see if we're not. I-what's this? Where am I?" Elrond stopped, squinting about himself. "This is odd. Even my magnificent elvish eyes can't pierce the gloom. Night must fall suddenly in Mordor, it wasn't dark a moment ago...and what's that stink? It smells like I've stumbled into an orc outhouse."
A small, shrill voice struck his ears. "Oh, but you haven't, master elf. This place is much worse." A small figure stepped out of the darkness. "Good evening, sir. What brings you here?"
"Erm...well...I was walking along, you see, planning battle strategies and other important things you wouldn't understand, whatever you are, and I seem to have lost my way. Umm...where am I? And what are you?'
"Well, sir elf, this is Shelob's lair. Home of the giant spider and all, you know. Not a very interesting place, really. But very smelly. Oh, and I'm a hobbit."
"A...I...um...Shelob?" Elrond shook his elven head in confusion. "Where's the spider? And what's a hobbit? I have never heard of your race before, and I know many things."
"My, you're certainly modest. And you ask a lot of questions, don't you? Which one do you want answered first?"
"Shelob?"
"The spider is down on the battlefield feasting on bodies, as far as I know. At any rate, she's not here, and with all the fresh meat around she won't be back for a while. That's good, because it leaves me time to get my work finished."
"What is a hobbit, and what kind of work do you have to do up here?" Elrond, beginning to see that this could take a while, seated himself on a nearby rock.
"Questions, questions. You really should work on that. Well, hobbits are 'halflings'. Holebuilders. Short people. That's about it, really. And as for my work, I'm up here doing laundry." The short woman shook her head scornfully.
"Laundry?"
"Oh, yes. Since no one knows who hobbits are, we get stuck with all the menial work. You fight the battle, we do the cleanup. Do you have any idea how much mess several thousand dead or injured warriors make? It'll take days for the janitorial crews to finish. And as for me...have you ever tried to get a bloodstain out of elven fabric? Sure you're incredibly wise about everything else, but when it comes to stain-resistant clothing, you're the most primitive of the lot."
Elrond was speechless.
"And besides that,-you know what? I'm going to teach you how to remove bloodstains. Come over here, I'll light a lamp."
Elrond rose and began backing away stealthily. "Oh, no, ma'am, that won't be necessary, I'll just --Ooof!" he tripped over a pebble and landed hard on his delicate elven fanny.
"Ooh, I'll bet that smarts! Get back here, I'll dust you off." The hobbit woman came over with a lamp held aloft. "I say, you're rather a cute one, aren't you? I couldn't see your face without the light." She began busily brushing dust and dirt off Elrond's legs. "Mm-hmm. And tall too. Ye-es."
Elrond did not like the way this conversation was going. "Really, ma'am, I-Yipe! What are you doing? *That's* not where I fell! Get off me!" He hopped backwards on one foot, shaking the other in an attempt to remove the hobbit clinging to it.
"No! No! You're mine! My lovey-muffin! All mine!"
"Get off! Get off! Do you realize you're foaming at the mouth? How ladylike is that? Get off me! Don't bite me! No!" Elrond, with a final desperate shake, freed his leg from the clutches of the hobbit lady's desperate fingers and took off towards the faint light in the distance, with his ardent suitor close at his heels. "Ha-ha!" he cried as he burst into the light, "I'm free!"
He forced his aching feet along even faster as he heard the wail echoing off the rocks behind him: "Nooooooo! Come ba-ack, my lovey-muffin!"
Several hours later Elrond finally dared to pause, collapsing on a rock and gasping for breath. "No one must ever find out about this," he panted, "but I have learned an invaluable lesson. Hobbits are a virus."
Finis
Well, there you have it. Frightening, eh? Or maybe not. Either way, I think I'm going to do more of these. They're great fun.
