Monstrous
by Leafy
Author's Note: This is my first LOTR fanfic ever. It is loosely based on an episode of the television show "Red Dwarf".
Also, this fic is more based on the movie of Fellowship of the Ring, rather than the books.
I hope you all enjoy it!
Disclaimer: I, the author of this fic, do not own anything Lord of the Rings or Red Dwarf.
Thank you for the great reviews, everybody.
Galadriel Greenleaf: Heh, thanks a lot. I'm glad you're liking the story. :o)
Tiggivon: Wow, thanks a lot about the Legolas thing. That's very nice of you to say. :o) And, Boromir like Rimmer, huh? I can see that. :o) I'm glad you like the new Frodo/Sam dynamic. I wasn't sure how that was going to go over. Glad you like it, and thanks for the reviews! :o)
Europa: Yeah, Pip's cool! :o) Unfortunately, we have at least three more chapters to go, so, not yet. Thanks for the review! :o)
Marissa: Thanks for the review. Yeah, Aragorn made a mistake, huh? Oh! And, cliffhangers may be evil, but they sure are fun, huh? :o) Glad you think it's getting funny, and thanks for the review! :o)
Raider314: That sounds really cool! I will have to consider that. Yep, another one down. Can't say much more without spoiling this part, though. :o) Anyway, thanks for the review, and I'm glad you like the story! :o)
On with the show! :o)
* * *
Pippin opened his eyes slowly, drowsily. He was still tired. What had woken him up?
"Of course," he thought, the familiar gurgle reaching his ears once more. His stomach. He was starving. By the time they'd decided to call off the search, for the night, Sam had been so put out by the treatment he'd received during the day, he'd taken all of the food Bill had been carrying and threw it into the fast-moving river just below the campsite, in a fit of anger. Pippin could tell that it had taken all of Aragorn's restraint not to let Frodo tear him limb from limb, as the hobbit seemed quite ready to do by then.
The others had had bits of food stashed in their packs, and Merry had gone off in search of more to eat (with no success, after he was told that no one except Bill would be willing to eat grass), so that had eaten supper, just a very paltry one.
Pippin's stomach rumbled again, and he sat up, looking around for his own pack. They had all pooled the remaining food in Aragorn's pack, but perhaps he'd missed something in his own. Finding the ragged knapsack, Pippin pulled it close to himself, and began digging around inside. Very quickly, it became obvious that there was nothing edible left there. Just as he was about to give up and try to go back to sleep, Pippin's eyes fell on a very strange sight; Aragorn's pack, laying open and unattended on the ground. And if it wasn't odd enough that he'd been careless enough to leave it there like that, the visible contents was so bizarre that Pippin had to rub his eyes hard, to make sure he wasn't just tired and hallucinating.
Just inside the bag, sticking out a bit, was an unmistakable seed-cake. A big, unmistakable seed-cake.
Pushing his own pack aside, Pippin crawled over to it cautiously and pulled it out. On closer examination, Pippin couldn't help but notice that it looked a lot like one of the cakes Sam had destroyed. Could it be that Aragorn had rescued one of them from the river?
Why hadn't the ranger said anything about this? Why hadn't they eaten this, instead of the bits of bread and such that they'd settled for? Was Aragorn trying to hoard this cake?
Pippin's stomach interrupted again, protesting loudly the lack of food.
"Well," thought Pippin. "I'll show him. I'll show that Strider that nothing of this nature escapes my notice."
Pippin put the cake down and reached into his own pack for his knife. On retrieving it, he turned back to the lump of nourishment on his cloak and proceeded to cut a piece away from the edge for himself. He put it in his mouth and sunk his teeth into it.
Instantly, Pippin was alarmed by the strange taste of it. It didn't taste like any seed-cake he'd ever eaten. It tasted more like what he imagined raw animal flesh to taste like. Appalled, he spat it out onto the ground.
Pippin looked down at it closely, not daring to touch it, for it no longer even reassembled a seed-cake, half-chewed or otherwise. It was all black and mangled, stringy, and seemed to be saturated with blood. Pippin ran his tongue along the inside of his mouth. It couldn't be his own…
And then, there was his knife. On looking down at it, Pippin saw that it, too, was bloodied, where he'd sliced into the no-longer-appetizing snack.
This all seemed very familiar, like something Gandalf had mentioned earlier. Something to do with Frodo, and a pail--and the monster!
Whirling around, Pippin searched for the found-out cake, but found instead a large, extremely cross-looking beast. Dropping his little knife, Pippin stood up and drew out his sword. He wasn't going down without a fight.
The monster, noting the blade, began making its way slowly toward the hobbit. The monster snarled and sprang for him, but Pippin made use of his sword, stabbing toward its growing-ever-closer face. He missed, almost stabbing the side the monster's neck, which it seemed a bit more protective of, drawing back. Had it been injured there before?
Before Pippin could find out, the monster lunged forward again, more quickly, batting Pippin's sword out of his hand and opening its mouth.
**********
"Get away!" Aragorn bellowed, crashing through the underbrush and spotting the beast, just before Pippin's limp body.
He swung his sword at the monster, who retaliated by charging back into the trees and the dark night.
Aragorn didn't bother to follow this time. He dropped down beside the hobbit, shaking his shoulder a bit frantically. The drawn out sword and the knife that lay beside him unsettled Aragorn, and he prayed that blood on the latter belonged to the monster, not Pippin.
Pippin stirred then, looking drowsily at Aragorn. He sat up and rubbed his eyes, much as he had moments ago, when he first saw the seed-cake.
"What's going on, then?" he asked.
"The monster got to you," Aragorn responded, almost automatically now. "Can you tell what it's done?"
Pippin blinked at Aragorn, the shifted his eyes to the trees, thinking.
"Nope, I can't. Sorry. Perhaps it's done nothing," he added hopefully.
"I don't think so," said a voice. Aragorn turned and saw Gandalf step through the trees.
The wizard jabbed at the ground with his staff, pointing to a bloody, slimy little black blob on the ground next to Pippin.
Pippin looked down at it, wrinkling his nose in disgust.
"What is that?" he asked. "That's revolting."
"What is?" asked Merry, stepping into the campsite. He had his sword out, the tip of it glinting red. "Does something need cleaning?"
"What happened?" asked Aragorn, not bothering to answer his question.
"Oh, just a bit of a tustle with the monster," said Merry nonchalantly. "It was the oddest thing. First, I chased it, practically to the edge of the woods, then I lost it, and didn't find it again until I came back here, just now. Of course, I've lost it again. It's awfully fast."
"Of course," thought Aragorn. It wasn't a stupid monster, after all. It must have lured everyone who might've been a threat out of the camp, so it would have a fair shot at Pippin.
By then, the rest of the fellowship came back to the camp through the trees, telling stories similar to Merry's. Aragorn figured that it must have been back and forth for at least an hour, luring everyone in various ways farther and farther away from the campsite.
"I thought I heard you calling me," said Boromir to Aragorn. "And I saw you--or at least, I thought I did--going through the trees. The monster must have pretended to be you."
"Even better!" said Frodo. "It just makes it that much more of a challenge."
Pippin smirked then, and his stomach let out an admirable howl.
"Goodness!" said Merry, looking at his cousin. "You must be hungry, Pip."
"No," Pippin answered quickly, no need to pause for thought this time. "Full as a tick."
Gandalf's shoulders dropped slightly, and he pulled Aragorn aside.
"There you are," he said softly, so as not to let Pippin overhear. "Gluttony."
Aragorn opened his mouth in disbelief, looking back over at Pippin.
"Ironic that it should happen to him," he said.
**********
Aragorn lay down slowly on his own cloak, in a small clearing away from the others. Though he hadn't been ready for sleep at all that night, after losing Pippin, he felt as drained as he had ever been.
He closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths, in an attempt to calm himself.
However, it wasn't long before he was disturbed by another alarming sound, a dull thud, like the sound of a log being dropped.
Instantly, he got up and headed toward the sound, though he was positive that he didn't want to know what had caused it.
Sure enough, Aragorn's worst fears were confirmed in the first clearing he hit.
Gandalf was laid out on the ground, his staff neatly beside him. He looked as Aragorn imagined he looked when he slept, if he, in fact, ever slept.
Not at all prepared to deal with what he expected to happen next, Aragorn bent down and grasped Gandalf's shoulder, but couldn't bring himself to shake it, even a little.
He didn't have to. Within a few seconds, Gandalf was awake, sitting up and blinking dully at Aragorn.
"Hello," said the wizard, his voice squeaking a bit.
"The monster?" Aragorn asked him nauseously.
"Yes, afraid so," said the wizard, who didn't seem afraid at all.
"Can you tell what it's done?" asked Aragorn, again positive that he didn't want to know.
"Well--I really can't be sure, but--it seems to have…sucked out my intelligence," said Gandalf, leaning back a bit. "Well, it looks like you're the only normal one left," he continued. "There's no hope."
"But, wait--I don't understand," said Aragorn, ignoring the wizard's last remark. "You told us that the monster only feeds on negative emotions and feelings; intelligence isn't a feeling."
"No, you're right, it's not. S'pose I was wrong about all of that," said Gandalf carelessly, standing up and sighing. "Still, as I said, there's no hope."
"How can you say that--and, don't you need your staff?" Aragorn asked a touch desperately, picking it up and thrusting it at him.
"Ah, yes, of course," said the wizard docilely, accepting the staff. "And, really, it's simple, Aragorn. Without my oh-so-useful, sage wisdom and advice, we're done for. You'll be no help. You've been near-blinded by despair and frustration since the monster claimed Legolas. Go on, admit it."
"No, no--of course I haven't!" Aragorn faltered, furrowing his brow.
"Oh yes, you have," chuckled Gandalf. "And, why not? Frodo and Sam are indescribably unruly and unhelpful, Boromir couldn't be more useless or depressing if he tried, Merry refuses to sleep or even rest a moment, Pippin to eat, I just saw Legolas pull something out of his nose and wipe it in his hair, and I think it's safe to say that everyone wants to kill Gimli at this point. And now, there's me--duller than Boromir's disused sword. Everything to be miserable about, nothing to be glad for," he finished with relish.
Aragorn, whose contained despondency was slowly preparing for a reappearance, looked down at the ground, at the imprint the wizard had left on the leaves.
Gandalf was right. He had nothing to be glad for, nothing to be hopeful for. He had nothing at all. No help, no hope…he didn't even know who had the ring at this point.
Aragorn dug the tip of his boot into the dirt.
"Why does everything have to turn out so wrongly?" he thought despairingly.
Not looking up, Aragorn spoke again to Gandalf.
"You don't seem so stupid," he muttered innocuously.
"That's because I'm not," replied Gandalf, his voice now a simpering tone.
Aragorn looked up, confused.
"What do you mean?" he asked, but his words were lost in the loud suction noise that followed.
**********
"Aragorn!" Gandalf called, making his way hastily through the branches. "Aragorn! It's not safe for any of us to be alone--oof!"
The wizard tripped over a particularly-unnecessary tree root, landing on his knees in a clearing. He pushed his hair back, looking before him. What he saw took his breath away, much more than the fall had.
Gandalf saw Aragorn, passed out on the ground, but that wasn't the shocking thing. It was the familiar figure standing over him, which straightened up and turned as Gandalf stumbled into the clearing.
The face that looked into Gandalf's was his own. It looked at him for a second, quite startled, then disappeared again, vanishing without a trace.
Knowing that it was no use trying to follow the monster at the moment, Gandalf recovered his feet, stepped over to Aragorn, then took to his knees again, kneeling at the ranger's side.
"Aragorn," he said, slowly and clearly. "Wake up. We're all in great danger."
~~~End of Part 7