Disclaimer: BLAH!
A/N: Yeah, yeah, I'm late I know. JJ already murdered me for you guys, so never mind, yeah? BTW, we were both a bit... Insane when we wrote this, so it might not make much sense...
*
'They say that a sorceress lives in these woods. An elf witch, of terrible power.'
And they walked. Frodo got so obsessed with his brain and Galadriel's voice that he nearly walked into a tree and got rammed in the back of the head by one of Sam's numerous frying pans. Aragorn was in 'Dark-evil-is-near-and-we-might-die' mood, while Legolas trilled off about the "fair river Nimrodel". Lara scoffed at him, loading a new clip, then abruptly stopped as she heard the now familiar sound of a bow being pulled back. Check that. Bows being pulled back. It was Lorien elf person, AKA Haldir. There was a literal beehive of arrows around her head and her gun, while various other people of the fellowship were in similar nasty situations. Lara resisted a smirk when she saw Legolas pointing to someone who was pointing right back at him. Aragorn stepped forward, carefully avoiding jabbing his eye on another arrow as he made his way to an arrogant looking elf who was staring down his nose at him.
'Haldir o Lorien, henion aniron. Boe ammen i dulu i ven.' [A/N: Clar cannot remember full thing right now, will update later.]
Haldir looked as if he was about to puke at the insolent human human who was asking for his aid, before Gimli butted in most inappropriately. Haldir looked at Gimli after he said,
'Aragorn, these woods are perilous! We should go back!'
So there they were, 10 dummies trudging through Caras Galdahon (SP!!!). On the way, the elf and, uh, the elf, aka Legolas and Haldir, started rambling off in an incessant stream of, by then, nice to listen but annoying Elvish.
'Govannas vin gwennen le, Haldir o Lorien.' [The fellowship is in your debt, Haldir of Lorien]
'Mae govannen, Legolas Thranduillion! Ai, Dunadan na ista le.' [Welll met, Legolas, son of Thranduil! Ai, the (pesky) Aragorn is known to us.]
So on and so forth. Lara resisted the urge to pound them, while Alex looked at the golden leaves of the mallorn and wondered how much they would fetch on the black market back home. Slowly, they crawled the way through the wood, then just as they thought heir walking days were over, the came unto the Spiralling Inclined Plane: Silver Staircase of Massive Proportions. It was so Massive. That It Demanded That I Put Its Description In Caps Lock. How Appropriate For A Big, Spiralling, Annoyingly Long, Staircase. Lara cursed.
'Bloody hell!'
*
A few thousand billion steps later, they reached Galadriel and Celeborn, the silver haired twits! There the lady was in all her splendour, walking regally down the steps. Then she tripped. A few sniggers later and long stares, she regained her composure (and balance). Celeborn spoke first, to cover up for his wife's obvious mess up.
'Nine there were that set out from Rivendell, but here now stand 10, two from places unknown. But tell me, where is Gandalf the Grey, for I much desire to speak to him.'
Galadriel's eyes slowly widened in slight shock as she went into melodramatic mode.
'He has fallen... into... shadow.'
Suddenly smiling, for some unfathomable reason none dared to wonder, she pierced each of them with a glare before going on.
'The Quest stands on the edge of a knife... and the black coloured thing the lady is carrying. Ahem, stray but a little, it will fail... But hope remains, while company is true. Now rest, for you are weary with toil and much sorrow. Tonight, you shall rest well...'
Then, the lady cast her eyes upon Frodo, and her voice droned on in Frodo's head.
'Welcome, Frodo of the Shire. One who has seen the stupid Eye.'
*
Mithrandir, Mithrandir, o pilgrim grey...
The trees sang in a soft, sad, bittersweet, you-get-the-point symphony in lament for Gandalf. Legolas, holding a silver pitcher of water, stopped in from of Frodo and Sam, listening intently. Softly, he spoke.
'A Lament to Gandalf.'
Sam asked, for he did not speak Elvish.
'What do they say?'
Legolas looked at him with his grey/blue/green/black/greyish blue/purple/yellow/red/maroon/brown/gold eyes.
'I have not the heart to tell you. For me, the grief is still too near.'
'What do you know about grief, Elf boy,'
muttered Lara. Legolas looked rather stumped.
*
'Gwanna! Gwanna, gwanna, gwanna, gwanna, gwanna, gwanna!' [Die! Die, die, die, die, die, die!]
swore Galadriel loudly.
'Damn skirt!'
She tripped again. Utterly peeved, she gathered her skirt around her knees and hopped to the staircase, (She wore NikeShox© under her gown) before letting it drop down again and walking as regally as she could down it.
*
Alex had just gambled possession of Frodo's orc-alarm sword for a few days
and was still gambling for one of Sam's frying pans when a rather screwed
Frodo got to the foot of the stairs just in time to see Galadriel fall
flat on her face again. Not wanting to loose a head or anything else, he
followed her in silence. It was a very important moment for Galadriel.
She didn't trip once on the way to the basic. She even got there early-
this gave her time to rearrange her skirt over her new Nikes and reapply
her eye shadow. Frodo got to the basin just as Galadriel picked up the
enormous silver jut.
'Will you look into the mirror?'
Circling warily around to avoid the elf, Frodo questioned, innocent blue eyes going annoyingly huge again.
'What will I see?'
Galadriel was feeling thirsty. She lifted the jug and took a hefty slug. Wiping her mouth carelessly with the free back of her hand, she swallowed. Then she realized...
'Oh shit. It's been spiked.'
Mirrors have mercury in them, don't they?
Frodo boggled in understandable shock while Galadriel continued,
'Not even the wisest can tell-'
She paused and took another great swig, this time holding the pitcher over the basin and pouring-
'For it shows many things. Things that are-'
Pour-
'Things that were-'
Pour-
'And things that have -hic- not -hic- yet come -hic- to pass. Hic.'
She took another hefty slug as Frodo bent over the mirror. Her mind wasn't too alcohol tolerant and Frodo was starting to swirl and dilate quite a bit. All in all, he looked plenty better that way.
*
'Look Lara! I got six frying pans!
Shouted Alex, with a goofy grin plastered on his face.
'Good for you,'
smiled Lara faintly. Then it faded.
'Where's your shoe?'
Alex smiled wryly.
'You can't always win.'
'Aren't you going to get it back?'
Alex dug out a particularly deep frying pan.
'I lied. And I got Frodo's sword too.'
Neither of them really knew what to say next, it was possibly the first time they'd actually been nice, check that, civil, to each other the whole cursed trip. Alex decided to try something very familiar again.
'You know, we don't always have to fight.'
Exasperated, Lara replied,
'We're not fighting.'
'Er, we don't have to fight the rest of the time!'
Spluttered Alex.
'Water,'
Lara cut him off suddenly, pricking her ears.
'And Frodo making funny sounds. And hiccoughing.'
She cocked a pistol,
'Sounds fun.'
*
Galadriel was pleased. Frodo was taking her dramatic pose very well. She peered into the jug. Funny. There wasn't much in it.
Never mind.
She turned to Frodo in a very menacing manner and said,
'Hic.'
Suddenly, Alex and Lara burst into the clearing through a clump of bushes. Lara's Uzi was spitting bullets every which way but Alex's seemed to be stuck. With an apple. Elevenses.
Galadriel felt too sick to really be concerned. She leaned on the basic, stuck the jug on her head, and sat there.
'Come on, Ring Idiot,'
snarled Lara, dragging a heavily dazed Frodo along. Frodo shouted back.
'If you wished me to, I would give you the Ring!'
The Ring on its chain with its mind, swung out of his shirt. Something flared up in Galadriel's subconscious mind. There it was. The Ring. Galadriel screamed back.
'You offer it to me freely! HIC! I will not deny that I long desired this! BUT IN THE PLACE OF A DARK LORD, YOU WILL HAVE A QUUUEEEEEEEEEEEEEEN! HIC! ALL SHALL LOVE ME AND DESPAIR!!!!!!!!!'
Right. After Galadriel finally stopped going green, the world moved again.
Then she took a step forward...
And tripped.
Galadriel completely gave up.
'Come on Ring idiot, AND you,'
snapped Lara, snatching Alex's hand.
Behind his back his free hand held Galadriel's jug.
*
The next day, Galadriel had sobered up a bit and got them a boat that didn't
leak. She had a major hangover, and didn't say much. Celeborn altered her
dress and supported her down the steps. As a matter of fact, he altered
it seven times. Somehow, she still tripped when it was knee length. In
the end, he gave her a bathing suit and pushed her in.