Disclaimer: Blah. Don't own a thing. At least, not a thing that doesn't belong to me. Umm. . .that doesn't make much sense, now does it? *scratches head in confusion* Okay: I don't own anything that someone else already owns. You know what? I'll just say it like it is. I do not own anything related to Lord of the Rings. Except maybe this fic. And I don't own the little theme song from Wal-mart. That's about it.

Author's note: This is most certainly becoming a parody, so I've changed the genre. Um. . .that's about it. I have no really important news. Blah. Oh yeah! And a BIG thanks to Dragonlet for pointing out the fact that Elrond is waaayyy to serious to giggle. I must have been on a sugar high or something, 'cause those always deprive me of reason. You've saved me great humiliation! THANK YOU!! I've changed that part, if you'd like to read it again! Anyhoos, thanks a bunch to everyone else who reviewed! And don't be shy to point out mistakes. I'm terrible at proofreading and so many things pass by me unnoticed. Well, on with the story!

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Gandalf's POV

I watched as Frodo tumbled down the mountain to Aragorn's feet. When Frodo realized the ring was missing, my greatest fears seemed lived out and panic struck deep into my gut. That panic diminished, but was filled with worry was Boromir lifted the small trinket from the frost. As he reluctantly decided to watch him like a hawk, for fear he may becoming attached to the ring; just as Isildur had. This was beginning to worry me, for if Boromir was becoming affected, was Frodo, too? And the rest. They may as well bend to the Ring's evil in time.

We continued on, marching through the snow without a break in our pace. The clouds in the distance were indeed beginning to worry me, as did it Legolas. "I do not like the looks of the changing weather. It seems too sudden," he whispered to me. "I agree. Let us hope we find sufficient shelter before the storm catches us," I answered, trying to dismiss his worries. He subsided back to the end of the Fellowship, still looking in the direction of the darkening clouds.

My hopes were dashed when the storm hit without warning. We still trudged on, the Elf and his keen senses as our guide. I saw that even Legolas' vision was failing in such a blizzard and his walking was beginning to slow. He walked past most of us, attempting to find a path for the rest to follow. "There is a fell voice on the air," he alerted; stopping and listening more intently. It hit me. The sudden storm; the earlier spies had sent word to their master. "It's Saruman!" I called out. At that moment, rocks began to fall for the mountian. I dodged, and began to conjure a counter spell. It failed, for he had more power than me, and lightning from his hex struck the mountain.

The Elf came to my aid, and saved me from a rather nasty fall. As the entire Fellowship arose, everyone suggested we take a detour. Boromir first suggested we go through Rohan, but Aragorn noted it was too near to Isengard. The dwarf then suggested the path of Moria. The one path I dared not go. The one path that wielded Shadow and Flame.

"Let the Ring Bearer decide. Frodo?" I proclaimed, ending the dispute and placing a rather small burden upon the hobbit's shoulder. Small, yes, compared to one he already had the bear. "We take the path of Moria," he answered. I dreaded those words, but did not wish to tell everyone what lied deep within the bowels of the mine. "So be it."

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Jen's POV

Two days. Two days of torture I had to endure. But we were surviving, at the most. I can't say the same for my sanity. Feeling around for food within our packs kept us nourished. And we used a small area fifteen feet straight, ten feet to the left as the "bathroom". Our eyes couldn't see three inches ahead, so the first trip was quite out of the ordinary. Liz had shuffled around, nearly going off the edge, but turned and declared the area the toilet.

My butt was beginning to get sores from sitting on the rocky ground all day long. And my ears were getting sores, too; for Liz had decided to pass the time by singing "99 Bottles of Beer on the Wall". Even when I was trying to go to sleep, she sang. She said it kept her sanity together. And here I was thinking she had lost her sanity by the middle of the first day.

I was beginning to get worried. The Fellowship should have been here by now. 'Had they taken a different route?' I thought. 'Did our presence at the council drive them to take the path of Isengard? They may never come here and we'll die of starvation.' My fears were drowned out by Liz singing, "Fifteenth verse, same as the first. Ninety-nine bottles of beer on the wall, ninety-nine bottles of beer! Take one down, pass it around. Ninety-eight bottles of beer on the wall!" I tuned her out with Bach's fifth concerto repeatedly playing in my head.

Another half day (or what I estimated as half a day) had already droned past, when I heard a great rumble deep within the shadows. Liz stopped her singing and whispered in a fearful tone, "I hope that's the crew." I was thinking the same thing. "Guess we'll have to wait and see," I responded, keeping my voice controlled, though fear was beginning to surge through me.

It wasn't the only sound we had heard. At the end of the first day, we heard several growls and scatterings. It scared the heck out of me, and I'm sure it did the same to Liz, for she started her singing that day. I believe it gave her some sort of reassurance that no evil monsters will eat her; though if I were them I'd eat her just to make her stop singing.

I was absolutely ecstatic when a faint light appeared in the distance, along with faint noises. "It's them! Finally!" I heard the cheerful voice of my friend call out. "Ssh," I said, placing my finger to my lips. "We don't know who that is yet!" I hissed in a low voice. I knew it could only be them with light, but I didn't want to get eaten just because my hopes were too high.

When the light got closer, Liz and I fought to keep the glare out. I believe our irises had grown a tad weak in the days of darkness. "What the hell are you doing here?!" a voice called out. I could barely recognize it. "Legolas?" my friend called out beside me, her hand, too, trying to block the light. I looked at the faces. Sure enough, everyone was there. I was never so happy to see them. I was never so happy to see light.

"Well?" the Elf said, turning our attention back to his previously asked question. "Um. . ." I started. Boy, this was going to be hard to explain. "I knew it!" another voice called out. I looked in the direction of the sound, but had to look down, because the speaker was rather short. "No one can resist the charms of a dwarf," stated Gimli. "Believe me," I answered, "that would be the last reason why I'm here."

"And what would be your first?" questioned the ranger. "We came to help you," my friend called out, her head held high. It was like she was proud to have been proved helpless, hopeless, and entirely clueless. "You could hardly help us. You could hardly help yourselves," Boromir replied haughtily.

"I'd like to see you say that when you're dead!" I said angrily. I was referring to the "three-arrows-into-body-via-bow wielding Lurtz" incident, but he apparently took it as a threat and unsheathed his sword. I became frightened, for I had hardly any knowledge on how to fight with my sword. Gandalf must have seen this fear, for he came to my aid.

"Sheath your sword, Boromir. These two aren't our enemies. They will travel with us until we safely leave this catacomb." The warrior reluctantly agreed and put away his weapon. Legolas continued giving us strange looks until he finally spoke up.

"Why are you two wearing Glorfindel's clothes?"

"Umm. . .I guess he gave them to us," explained Liz. I was so proud! She came up with that excuse all by herself! "Yeah, but they're kind of messed up," I said, modeling for the Fellowship. I showed how the brown slacks' hem was fringed and uneven; how one sleeve of the green shirts was longer than the other; and how the tunic's pockets were inside out. Legolas looked quite hurt. "I made those clothes." That was a shocker. "What?" I asked incredulously. I blinked several times. Liz looked like she was near to tears. "I'll never take off these clothes. . ." she said in a small voice.

Everyone was a bit confused about what was happening, but followed Gandalf as he walked past everyone to guide them through the mines. We continued walking for quite some distance until the old wizard said one of his most famous lines: "I have no memory of this place."

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"Shouldn't we just tell him where to go?" a whispered voice asked. "No, Frodo and Gandalf will be sharing some serious 'bonding time' any second now," I replied. I never realized how long everyone had to wait while Gandalf thought about the paths before him. I was really bored, and decided to let my mind wander. I was in the middle of a reverie, when a question struck my mind. "Yo! Legolas!" I called.

The Elf looked up from his usual position. I didn't know if he had been sleeping, but he seemed rather angry with me. "Can Elves drown?" I asked. He shot me a scowl and bowed his head again. I huffed, "Fine! I'll ask Sam!" The hobbit started at the sound of his name. I walked over to him and sat down.

"Come on, you're an Elf wiz, right?" I asked. "I suppose," he replied. "Good. Can they drown?"

"Well, after living for so long, one would think they would learn how to swim," he answered. "Yeah, but if someone held their head under the water?"

"Why would someone want to do that?"

"I don't know! Maybe Saruman decides drowning is the latest fashion in killing. I was just asking!" I said. I was getting a bit annoyed with the little hobbit, so I walked over to Aragorn. "Dude, 'yes' or 'no' question: Can Elves drown?"

"Yes," came the rather simple answer. "Good. Can they burn to death? They look pretty flammable." I continued my barrage of questions on the deaths of Elves and hobbits until he finally was fed up and ignored me. I walked back over to Liz, how was (no doubt) staring at the relaxed Elf. "I wonder if she's plotting something" and "Perhaps. She does seem a bit edgy" were whispered by the gossiping hobbits.

When I looked over, they hushed up, looking a bit terrified. "You afraid of wittle, ol' me?" I asked in a childish tone. They still didn't reply. This rather uncomfortable silence (other than the whispers of Frodo and Gandalf as they 'bonded') continued for quite some time. Finally, Gandalf exclaimed, "Oh! It's that way!"

"Good, so I'm going this way," I said. "Why?" Liz questioned. I opened my mouth to announce about the orcs, trolls, and goblins that inhabited the area. I sighed and just kept going on my own path. I walked about three feet when I realized how dark it had become. "Wait! You guys?!" I called out, scrambling towards the exit.

"What took you so long?" Liz asked smugly. "Shut up," I answered. I only dreaded what will happen. The first battle.

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Hope you liked that! This one seemed especially serious, now didn't it? And the next one will be even worse! I predict it will be quite dark. Even with life-threatening moments meshed into it! The first battle!