Note: I have changed many characters and some relationships between
characters to fit my purposes (some of which you will not understand). Some
changes are quite drastic, and I do not wish to offend anyone, so please
remember that I mean no insult to the original characters or the actors.
Also, I do not own lord of the rings, or anything connected to it, except
some of the names in this fic.
Lord of the Hoodie
The fellowship of the hoodie
I amar prestar aen. Han mathon ne nen, han mathon ne chae, a han noston ned 'wilith.
The world is changed. I feel it in the pocket. I feel it in the drawstrings. I smell it in the cotton. Much that once was is lost, for none now live who remember to wash it.
It began with the sewing of the great hoodies. Three were given to the elves, immortal, wisest, and fairest of all beings. Seven to the dwarf lords, great miners and craftsmen of the mountain halls. And nine. Nine hoodies were gifted to the race of men who above all else desire bower, for within these hoodies was bound the strength and will to govern each race.
But they were all of them deceived, for another hoodie was made.
In the land of Mordor, with the needles of Mount Loom, the dark lord Perron sewed in secret a master hoodie to control all others. And into this hoodie he poured his cruelty, his malice, and his will to dominate all life.
One hoodie to rule them all.
One by one, the free lands of Southern Tier fell to the power of the hoodie. But there were some who resisted. A last alliance of men and elves marched against the armies of Mordor. On the slopes of Mount Loom, they fought for the freedom of Southern Tier.
(Elrond shouts)"Tangado haid! Leithio I philinn!"
Victory was near. but the power of the hoodie could not be undone. It was in this moment, when all hope had faded, that Isildur, son of the king, ripped off the hoodie. Perron, the enemy of the free peoples of Southern Tier, was defeated. The hoodie passed to Isildur, who had this one chance to destroy evil forever. But the hearts of men are easily corrupted, and the hoodie of power has a will of its own. It betrayed Isildur to his death, and some things that should not have been forgotten, were lost. History became legend, legend became myth, and for two and a half thousand years, the hoodie passed out of dress code. Until, when chance came, it ensnared a new wearer.
"My precious."
The hoodie came to the creature Gollum, who took it deep into the tunnels of the Hooded Hills. And there, it consumed him.
"It came to me, my own, my love, my own. My precious.."
The hoodie brought to Gollum unnatural long life. For five hundred years it poisoned his mind. And in the gloom of Gollum's cave, it waited.
Darkness crept back into the forests of the world. Rumor grew of a shadow in the East, whispers of a nameless fear, and the hoodie of power perceived its time had now come.
It abandoned Gollum, but something happened then that the hoodie did not intend. It was picked up by the most unlikely creature imaginable: a hobbit, Bilbo Bag'ems, of the Shire.
"A hoodie."
"Lost!! My precious is lost!!..."
For the time will soon come when hobbits will shape the fortunes of all.
Lord of the Hoodie
The fellowship of the hoodie
I amar prestar aen. Han mathon ne nen, han mathon ne chae, a han noston ned 'wilith.
The world is changed. I feel it in the pocket. I feel it in the drawstrings. I smell it in the cotton. Much that once was is lost, for none now live who remember to wash it.
It began with the sewing of the great hoodies. Three were given to the elves, immortal, wisest, and fairest of all beings. Seven to the dwarf lords, great miners and craftsmen of the mountain halls. And nine. Nine hoodies were gifted to the race of men who above all else desire bower, for within these hoodies was bound the strength and will to govern each race.
But they were all of them deceived, for another hoodie was made.
In the land of Mordor, with the needles of Mount Loom, the dark lord Perron sewed in secret a master hoodie to control all others. And into this hoodie he poured his cruelty, his malice, and his will to dominate all life.
One hoodie to rule them all.
One by one, the free lands of Southern Tier fell to the power of the hoodie. But there were some who resisted. A last alliance of men and elves marched against the armies of Mordor. On the slopes of Mount Loom, they fought for the freedom of Southern Tier.
(Elrond shouts)"Tangado haid! Leithio I philinn!"
Victory was near. but the power of the hoodie could not be undone. It was in this moment, when all hope had faded, that Isildur, son of the king, ripped off the hoodie. Perron, the enemy of the free peoples of Southern Tier, was defeated. The hoodie passed to Isildur, who had this one chance to destroy evil forever. But the hearts of men are easily corrupted, and the hoodie of power has a will of its own. It betrayed Isildur to his death, and some things that should not have been forgotten, were lost. History became legend, legend became myth, and for two and a half thousand years, the hoodie passed out of dress code. Until, when chance came, it ensnared a new wearer.
"My precious."
The hoodie came to the creature Gollum, who took it deep into the tunnels of the Hooded Hills. And there, it consumed him.
"It came to me, my own, my love, my own. My precious.."
The hoodie brought to Gollum unnatural long life. For five hundred years it poisoned his mind. And in the gloom of Gollum's cave, it waited.
Darkness crept back into the forests of the world. Rumor grew of a shadow in the East, whispers of a nameless fear, and the hoodie of power perceived its time had now come.
It abandoned Gollum, but something happened then that the hoodie did not intend. It was picked up by the most unlikely creature imaginable: a hobbit, Bilbo Bag'ems, of the Shire.
"A hoodie."
"Lost!! My precious is lost!!..."
For the time will soon come when hobbits will shape the fortunes of all.