Disclaimer: This is a work of fan fiction. The characters, settings, places, and languages used in this work are the property of the Tolkien Estate, Tolkien Enterprises, and possibly New Line Cinema. The author will not receive any money or other remuneration for this work.

"Hello old chap!" called Fingon, "What are you doing up there?"

"Oh, hello old chap, I thought it was you I could hear singing. That fiend Morgoth has bound my right hand to the cliff," replied Maedhros.

"My dear fellow! That's just not cricket! Is there anything I can do to help?"

"I really don't like to ask, but would you mind awfully just shooting me?"

"Can't you hang on for a bit longer, old chap? I'm sure I'll find a way up there eventually."

"I don't believe there is one. Morgoth used a flying beast to put me here, and you'd have to go through Angband if you were to lower a rope down from the top."

"No, that wouldn't do at all. I didn't bring any rope."

"Never mind old chap, I'll feel much more the thing once you've shot me."

"Will you old chap? Oh well, here goes, I'll say a quick prayer and shoot on the count of three."

"Thank you so much, my dear fellow."

"One, two, th.. What the devil is that?"

"Looks like an eagle to me, old chap. One of Manwë's I daresay."

"Well that's jolly useful. It can carry me up to you!"

"Oh I say, old chap, do be careful!"

"Don't worry about me, I'm quite safe. I don't think it would let me fall. Now, lets see what I can do about this abominable handcuff."

"This metal must be tough, old chap. M'father would have liked it, I'm sure."

"It's no good old chap, I can't cut it."

"You'll have to kill me after all, then. It was a valiant attempt."

"Wait a moment old chap, I have an idea!"

"What is... Ouch! That rather hurt old chap. You might have warned me!"

"Don't be such a sissy, my dear fellow, I only cut off your hand! You'll feel much more the thing in a minute."

"I don't know how to thank you, my dear fellow!"

"Oh, don't mention it old chap!"