Disclaimer: See me own nothing I didn't steal from Tolkien and Survivor.
See me not care since this will never really be published. See me stop
writing this disclaimer and skip to the story.
Random Note: I see now that there are a bunch of other people who copied the first three to write a Survivor Middle-earth story. I'm not alone!! :- ) But like I mentioned before, I've been writing this for months and months, so it's not surprising. I currently have up to Episode 13 written, but I can't type that fast. ~*~
Episode 4 : Alcarinque Day 2
The breath-taking zoom over Middle-earth only lasts a couple seconds this time. You can tell the IMAX camera crew is getting sick of doing this twice a day.
"I'm dying here!" gasps Boromir as he flops like a fishy to the ground right at the foot of Weathertop Hill. "And I would know! I've died before! I can't take... another... step. Dyind and coming back to life... isn't... easy."
Everyone stares at him as he lies in the dirt. This is very unlike the proud Gondorian they remember.
"Look how close we are though!" Sam cries, pointing to the top of the hill. "That was our goal for tonight, and we're already here in the middle of the morning."
"That's because we've been jogging since midnight," Arwen points out. She wasn't usually one to complain, but she wasn't exactly the most athletic Elf in the group. That would be Legolas.
"This brings back memories of tracking the Uruks across Rohan," he muses.
"Yes. Well, that's nice, but it has nothing to do with us," Boromir wheezes, slowly sitting up.
"You know, I don't know why they put a stuck-up dead guy on this show instead of Faramir," Eowyn grumbles.
"Better him than Denethor. According to Pippin, he went crazy," Sam points out.
"Just like you, you Ring-theif!" Frodo accuses the other person besides Gollum who tried to take the Ring. (No, not the Witch-King. I guess there are a few more people who attacked Frodo than I thought. Seriously, it's like he's a pincushion screaming "Stab me! Oh pretty please won't you stab me?! Or give me a fatal wound in as many other ways as you possibly can in the time Tolkien gave you to try and kill me?!")
"Forgive me! You know what the Ring can do to your mind!" Boromir cries out.
Frodo did know. He knew better than Boromir, but with all these people that he either feared or hated back from the dead and talking about the Ring, he turned back into the Frodo who was losing his battle with the Ring.
"Never! You were supposed to protect me!"
"Oh, come on, you forgave Gollum in a heartbeat!" Sam points out in exasperation. "And Boromir didn't do anything to you compared to him."
"Boromir was a member of the Fellowship! And besides, Gollum made up for his wrongs."
Sam can only stare at his master. He can hardly believe his ears.
"How?! By trying to kill you he made up for the other time he tried to kill you?!"
"No, he saved my life in the Dead Marshes, remember? And he stopped us from trying to get in the Black Gate when we would have been caught for sure. Gandalf was right when he said Gollum still had a part to play in the story. It's true that he bit my finger off, but he did that to save the world, Sam."
Sam doesn't have the heart to tell him that Gollum's motives for chomping his finger off had nothing to do with the fate of the world. Frodo should have known that already. Sam is starting to recognize that this isn't the whoop-dee-doo-the-Ring-is-gone-and-now-all-of-a-sudden-I'm-okay-again Frodo.
Luckily, Eowyn still has the guts to break the obvious newsflash to Frodo.
"From what I know of this Gollum creature, it isn't something that would do anything for the good of others. Do you hear what you're saying? All he wanted was the Ring. If you don't forgive this dolt Boromir, I'll vote you off," she tells him coldly. It's not very nice to say, but it's just what he needs to hear.
His shockingly blue eyes widen, and he quickly nods to Boromir.
"You're forgiven," he tells the undead Gondorian, who gives a smile of relief.
"I don't forgive HIM though," Frodo adds, pointing at the Lord of the Nazgul, who was one of the many to "mistake" the hobbit for a pincushion.
"Oh." Eowyn glances at the menacing, black-robed Witch-King. "Well, that's alright."
"What!?" he hisses threateningly.
The security people jump out from behind some pricker-bushes and form a protective shield around Eowyn and Frodo. The Witch-King screams that weird, long hissing shriek but backs off, which is dumb since the security dudes already ran away in terror like normal twenty-first century people. Normal people are so stupid and useless in Middle-earth. (No offense, self (or any of you).)
There's a long silence as the Ringwraith and shield-maiden stare each other down. Finally Legolas has to break the tension by stating the obvious as usual. Seriously, someone pointed out to me how stupid his lines are in the movie, and they have a point. (No offense to whoever wrote the movie script, cuz they rock.)
"We must move on. We cannot keep moving this slowly."
They all grumble but agree.
"When are we supposed to have reached Mordor?" Boromir asks the Elf.
"Tomorrow." Legolas doesn't even blink when he answers, but you could have heard a pin drop in the silence that follows, if a pin makes any sound falling on grass.
"We're still a day's journey from Rivendell," Arwen informs them without Legolas's calmness.
"This is impossible," Frodo moans.
"So was your quest to destroy the Ring, and you did that," Sam points out, as usual the last one to give up.
"If only we had a faster way to travel..." Eowyn sighs.
"If SOMEONE hadn't decapitated my fell beast, we would," the Witch-King growls, staring pointedly at Eowyn with his nonexistent eyes.
"That fell worm? It couldn't even fight as well as one of those bunny rabbits in the Shire," Eowyn replies, exaggerating, but not by much.
"No, let's face it. There's no easier way. We have to rely on each other," Frodo declares.
"Oh, well that's very motivational, but I don't feel like relying on anything that's possessed or lives in Mordor," Boromir sneers. "Well, 'exists' in Mordor is a better word."
"Can we all stop arguing until we reach our camp!?!" Sam cries. His voice is loud enough to echo, and everyone else stops talking.
"Finally, someone has some sense," Arwen mutters, patting Sam on the back. Everyone slowly starts jogging again, even Boromir. As Legolas passes the camera, he turns to glare at something behind him. The "something" is wearing a sparkly pink prom dress and has her hair done up in the second fanciest hairdo the world has seen since Marie Antoinette. She flashes a brilliant smile.
"Why are you here?" he demands, somehow still managing to sound polite. Must be because he's an Elf.
"I have nothing to do until tomorrow afternoon when your first challenge is, so they let me follow along with you! Isn't it super? I would miss you too much if I didn't."
Jessica gives him her best puppy-dog eyes. The Mirkwood Elf raises an eyebrow and turns on his heel to follow his tribe. To be more accurate, he sprints to the front of their little pack and only looks back fearfully over his shoulder when he's put about fifty yards between himself and the Barbie-doll wannabe. She throws a temper tantrum before gazing after Legolas longingly.
"I think I'm about to cry!" a cameraman sniffs.
"I think I'm about to puke!" announces another. "What are you doing? You're the hostess! You can't show favoritism!"
She sighs and turns back to the camera.
"Okie dokie, no favorite-nim. Well, thanks everybody, and buh-byezies!" She curtsies dramatically.
The camera zooms out and out and out and out and out until all you can see is Middle-earth from outer space. You really have to wonder how much this shot costs, but nobody really cares, since it's so so so so so so cool.
~*~
Random Note: I see now that there are a bunch of other people who copied the first three to write a Survivor Middle-earth story. I'm not alone!! :- ) But like I mentioned before, I've been writing this for months and months, so it's not surprising. I currently have up to Episode 13 written, but I can't type that fast. ~*~
Episode 4 : Alcarinque Day 2
The breath-taking zoom over Middle-earth only lasts a couple seconds this time. You can tell the IMAX camera crew is getting sick of doing this twice a day.
"I'm dying here!" gasps Boromir as he flops like a fishy to the ground right at the foot of Weathertop Hill. "And I would know! I've died before! I can't take... another... step. Dyind and coming back to life... isn't... easy."
Everyone stares at him as he lies in the dirt. This is very unlike the proud Gondorian they remember.
"Look how close we are though!" Sam cries, pointing to the top of the hill. "That was our goal for tonight, and we're already here in the middle of the morning."
"That's because we've been jogging since midnight," Arwen points out. She wasn't usually one to complain, but she wasn't exactly the most athletic Elf in the group. That would be Legolas.
"This brings back memories of tracking the Uruks across Rohan," he muses.
"Yes. Well, that's nice, but it has nothing to do with us," Boromir wheezes, slowly sitting up.
"You know, I don't know why they put a stuck-up dead guy on this show instead of Faramir," Eowyn grumbles.
"Better him than Denethor. According to Pippin, he went crazy," Sam points out.
"Just like you, you Ring-theif!" Frodo accuses the other person besides Gollum who tried to take the Ring. (No, not the Witch-King. I guess there are a few more people who attacked Frodo than I thought. Seriously, it's like he's a pincushion screaming "Stab me! Oh pretty please won't you stab me?! Or give me a fatal wound in as many other ways as you possibly can in the time Tolkien gave you to try and kill me?!")
"Forgive me! You know what the Ring can do to your mind!" Boromir cries out.
Frodo did know. He knew better than Boromir, but with all these people that he either feared or hated back from the dead and talking about the Ring, he turned back into the Frodo who was losing his battle with the Ring.
"Never! You were supposed to protect me!"
"Oh, come on, you forgave Gollum in a heartbeat!" Sam points out in exasperation. "And Boromir didn't do anything to you compared to him."
"Boromir was a member of the Fellowship! And besides, Gollum made up for his wrongs."
Sam can only stare at his master. He can hardly believe his ears.
"How?! By trying to kill you he made up for the other time he tried to kill you?!"
"No, he saved my life in the Dead Marshes, remember? And he stopped us from trying to get in the Black Gate when we would have been caught for sure. Gandalf was right when he said Gollum still had a part to play in the story. It's true that he bit my finger off, but he did that to save the world, Sam."
Sam doesn't have the heart to tell him that Gollum's motives for chomping his finger off had nothing to do with the fate of the world. Frodo should have known that already. Sam is starting to recognize that this isn't the whoop-dee-doo-the-Ring-is-gone-and-now-all-of-a-sudden-I'm-okay-again Frodo.
Luckily, Eowyn still has the guts to break the obvious newsflash to Frodo.
"From what I know of this Gollum creature, it isn't something that would do anything for the good of others. Do you hear what you're saying? All he wanted was the Ring. If you don't forgive this dolt Boromir, I'll vote you off," she tells him coldly. It's not very nice to say, but it's just what he needs to hear.
His shockingly blue eyes widen, and he quickly nods to Boromir.
"You're forgiven," he tells the undead Gondorian, who gives a smile of relief.
"I don't forgive HIM though," Frodo adds, pointing at the Lord of the Nazgul, who was one of the many to "mistake" the hobbit for a pincushion.
"Oh." Eowyn glances at the menacing, black-robed Witch-King. "Well, that's alright."
"What!?" he hisses threateningly.
The security people jump out from behind some pricker-bushes and form a protective shield around Eowyn and Frodo. The Witch-King screams that weird, long hissing shriek but backs off, which is dumb since the security dudes already ran away in terror like normal twenty-first century people. Normal people are so stupid and useless in Middle-earth. (No offense, self (or any of you).)
There's a long silence as the Ringwraith and shield-maiden stare each other down. Finally Legolas has to break the tension by stating the obvious as usual. Seriously, someone pointed out to me how stupid his lines are in the movie, and they have a point. (No offense to whoever wrote the movie script, cuz they rock.)
"We must move on. We cannot keep moving this slowly."
They all grumble but agree.
"When are we supposed to have reached Mordor?" Boromir asks the Elf.
"Tomorrow." Legolas doesn't even blink when he answers, but you could have heard a pin drop in the silence that follows, if a pin makes any sound falling on grass.
"We're still a day's journey from Rivendell," Arwen informs them without Legolas's calmness.
"This is impossible," Frodo moans.
"So was your quest to destroy the Ring, and you did that," Sam points out, as usual the last one to give up.
"If only we had a faster way to travel..." Eowyn sighs.
"If SOMEONE hadn't decapitated my fell beast, we would," the Witch-King growls, staring pointedly at Eowyn with his nonexistent eyes.
"That fell worm? It couldn't even fight as well as one of those bunny rabbits in the Shire," Eowyn replies, exaggerating, but not by much.
"No, let's face it. There's no easier way. We have to rely on each other," Frodo declares.
"Oh, well that's very motivational, but I don't feel like relying on anything that's possessed or lives in Mordor," Boromir sneers. "Well, 'exists' in Mordor is a better word."
"Can we all stop arguing until we reach our camp!?!" Sam cries. His voice is loud enough to echo, and everyone else stops talking.
"Finally, someone has some sense," Arwen mutters, patting Sam on the back. Everyone slowly starts jogging again, even Boromir. As Legolas passes the camera, he turns to glare at something behind him. The "something" is wearing a sparkly pink prom dress and has her hair done up in the second fanciest hairdo the world has seen since Marie Antoinette. She flashes a brilliant smile.
"Why are you here?" he demands, somehow still managing to sound polite. Must be because he's an Elf.
"I have nothing to do until tomorrow afternoon when your first challenge is, so they let me follow along with you! Isn't it super? I would miss you too much if I didn't."
Jessica gives him her best puppy-dog eyes. The Mirkwood Elf raises an eyebrow and turns on his heel to follow his tribe. To be more accurate, he sprints to the front of their little pack and only looks back fearfully over his shoulder when he's put about fifty yards between himself and the Barbie-doll wannabe. She throws a temper tantrum before gazing after Legolas longingly.
"I think I'm about to cry!" a cameraman sniffs.
"I think I'm about to puke!" announces another. "What are you doing? You're the hostess! You can't show favoritism!"
She sighs and turns back to the camera.
"Okie dokie, no favorite-nim. Well, thanks everybody, and buh-byezies!" She curtsies dramatically.
The camera zooms out and out and out and out and out until all you can see is Middle-earth from outer space. You really have to wonder how much this shot costs, but nobody really cares, since it's so so so so so so cool.
~*~
