A/N: Look! It's another quick update! Isn't summer great? The only fault I can find in summer is mosquitoes. God, I hate those little fuckers! I'm really, really, reeeeeally allergic to them, to the point where one bite causes drastic swelling. It's scary, actually. I got one on my thigh a couple of weeks ago, and there was a big read mark six inches in diameter---and it hurt, too. I also got one on my knuckle last week...my left hand was so swollen, I couldn't bend my fingers at all. It looked like I was punching a wall for ten hours straight. But both hands are now all better, allowing me to type this chapter. ...You were wondering where all that mosquito-talk was leading, weren't you. You were thinking, "what the hell? No one cares!" But then I managed to tie it all up in a clever lead-in to the chapter. Okay, I'll stop singing my own praises now.
Disclaimers: I like to think that J.R.R. Tolkein doesn't mind LotR fanfiction. He always seemed the grandfatherly-type, willing to indulge the whims of children. And he would surely have been delighted to know that he inspired others to write. So there. Tolkein would not sue me. He'd just be amused.
Chapter 4: Through the Night - - -
Ah, the sun sets in the distant horizon, reminding us that we have lived through yet another dismal day of tramping about in the unchanging maze that is this barren, rocky landscape.
"It's only the second day. I do wish you would be less dramatic," Frodo said.
Ha, =me=?! Look who's talking, Miss Oh-boo-hoo-this-burden-I-bear-is-so-heavy-I-don't-know-how-I-shall-get-through-it.
"I think it's about time we turned in for the night. Don't you think so, Sam?"
Sure, change the subject. You hobbits are all the same.
Sam was delighted that Frodo would actually ask his opinion, and he was ready to agree to just about anything. So, we set up camp. We had to tie Gollum back up, because we couldn't risk letting him run around. We already had one potential rapist to keep an eye on...if both Sam =and= Gollum were loose, we'd never get any rest.
We crawled into our bedrolls early. There wasn't really anything else to do. Well, Sam suggested we play some fireside "games", but Frodo hastily and wisely declined. It didn't take Sam too long to fall asleep. And damn, if he doesn't snore like a congested rhino. If the Orcs were smart, they'd just wait for nightfall and then follow the chain saw like rumbling of Sam's nasal system.
Frodo and I lied, listening to Sam's snoring and Gollum's mad raving.
This is really fucking boring. At least during the day, insignificant events occasionally happen. But then again, at least the darkness masks Gollum's ugliness.
"Don't be so harsh on him, Ring. He's not =that= ugly."
Of course you'd think so. You spend your days with Sam.
Frodo didn't reply, but I have the sneaking suspicion that he was trying to smother a giggle by stuffing his face into his blanket. After a while of silence, it became obvious that Frodo was either asleep, or had asphyxiated on his blanket. It was boring once more. I had nothing to do but spy on Frodo's friends.
The Orcs had begun settling for the night also. Merry and Pippin were tossed into some forgotten corner, presumably to wait while hobbit-roasting fires were being stoked. They were bound securely, and they were talking in hushed tones about trees being alive. (Well, no shit, trees are alive, I thought.) "Trees that can whisper, talk to each other---even move."
Okay, that's it. They're high again. God knows how they managed to access narcotics while being held hostage.
Something happened with the Orcs at that moment. I missed it, because I was watching Pippin and Merry, but I could see the commotion resulting from it. There was dissent among the troops. They were probably arguing about whether to broil or grill the hobbits. Whatever it was, mayhem ensued, resulting in a lot of running around and screaming and indiscriminate killing. Merry and Pippin saw this as a chance to escape, but before they could crawl away from the Orcs and into the relative safety of the nearby forest, they were caught.
"You're not going anywhere," Hideous Orc Goon #1 said, climbing on top of Pippin.
What is with everyone trying to rape hobbits? Does everyone harbour deep-seated paedophiliac tendencies that get triggered by the sight of their little bodies? Or are they just really rape-able???
Before Pippin could be thoroughly debauched, a random arrow buried itself into the Orc's back.
Suddenly, a whole pack of gallant horsemen blazed in on their valiant steeds, swinging their powerful weapons, striking down Orcs faster than you can say "testosterone".
"Who are they?"
AHH!!! Crap! You scared the shit outta me, Frodo! I thought you were asleep!
"Well, I was trying to be, but =someone= wouldn't be quiet... So, who are the horsemen?"
Yes, the heroic cavalry riding in to save the day. I don't know who they are, but ten bucks says they're related to Aragorn somehow.
"Well, since Merry and Pippin are being rescued by these mysterious horsemen, can we not go to sleep now, assured of their safety?"
Yeah, okay, fine.
I stopped looking in on them, and focussed on getting some sleep. Which was much easier said than done. In between Frodo's and Sam's constant snoring and Gollum's graphic descriptions of what he planned to do with me once he got his hands on me, I didn't get an awful lot of sleep. A few nightmares, perhaps, but little actual sleep.
The next morning, we were up and ready to go at first light.
"Gollum says we shall be able to make our way out of this stone hinterland by noon today," Frodo commented we started our daily walk.
Good to hear. Glad his navigational abilities are better than =a certain someone else's= (coughSAMcough).
We walked for a while. "Sam, would you please stop staring at me that way?"
"I was only glaring at the Ring in anger, Mr. Frodo! I swear!"
"That was not 'anger' I saw in your eyes, Samwise," Frodo said under his breath, tucking me into his shirt.
I didn't really mind too much, because that way I didn't have to look at Gollum, Sam, or the miles and miles of depressing rocks. I had to check in with Aragorn and Legolas anyway.
Wow, you certainly made progress from where I saw you last.
"That is because we spent most of the night gaining ground. We only allowed ourselves two hours' repose," Legolas informed me.
"Oh, they allowed themselves two hours alright, but it was not for reposing, let me tell you," Gimli muttered through his increasingly dirty beard. The thing was disgusting. It was starting to attract fleas and ticks and small rodents. It was almost getting to be as filthy as...as...as Aragorn's hair!
"Any news?" Aragorn asked, veering me back onto the topic at hand.
Well, everyone made it through the night alive over here, and---Aragorn, would you please stop acting so surprised every time you find out we haven't died? We don't need your protection =that= much. Christ. Okay, and I found out some mighty interesting information at Isengard. It seems that Saruman has been a busy little nursing home reject. He is officially in a league with Sauron.
"The White Wizard, a traitor!" Aragorn looked grim. Well, grimmer than usual.
And then Legolas joined him in looking grim. He was gazing off to the horizon and frowning. "A red sun rises this morning," he said.
Sailors take warning?
"No, blood has been spilled this past night."
Oh.
Before this idea could develop, there was a rumbling from a distance. From our experience with cave trolls and Balrogs, we've learned that distant rumbling is not a nice sign. Aragorn quickly ushered them all behind a conveniently placed boulder.
It was the hoard of brave horsemen from last night.
Aragorn quickly stepped out from behind the boulder to greet them. See? I knew he had to at least know them.
"Riders of Rohan, what news from the Mark?"
At the sound of his voice, each and every one of the riders turned his horse and levelled his weapon at Aragorn.
Uh-oh.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - TBC
Disclaimers: I like to think that J.R.R. Tolkein doesn't mind LotR fanfiction. He always seemed the grandfatherly-type, willing to indulge the whims of children. And he would surely have been delighted to know that he inspired others to write. So there. Tolkein would not sue me. He'd just be amused.
Chapter 4: Through the Night - - -
Ah, the sun sets in the distant horizon, reminding us that we have lived through yet another dismal day of tramping about in the unchanging maze that is this barren, rocky landscape.
"It's only the second day. I do wish you would be less dramatic," Frodo said.
Ha, =me=?! Look who's talking, Miss Oh-boo-hoo-this-burden-I-bear-is-so-heavy-I-don't-know-how-I-shall-get-through-it.
"I think it's about time we turned in for the night. Don't you think so, Sam?"
Sure, change the subject. You hobbits are all the same.
Sam was delighted that Frodo would actually ask his opinion, and he was ready to agree to just about anything. So, we set up camp. We had to tie Gollum back up, because we couldn't risk letting him run around. We already had one potential rapist to keep an eye on...if both Sam =and= Gollum were loose, we'd never get any rest.
We crawled into our bedrolls early. There wasn't really anything else to do. Well, Sam suggested we play some fireside "games", but Frodo hastily and wisely declined. It didn't take Sam too long to fall asleep. And damn, if he doesn't snore like a congested rhino. If the Orcs were smart, they'd just wait for nightfall and then follow the chain saw like rumbling of Sam's nasal system.
Frodo and I lied, listening to Sam's snoring and Gollum's mad raving.
This is really fucking boring. At least during the day, insignificant events occasionally happen. But then again, at least the darkness masks Gollum's ugliness.
"Don't be so harsh on him, Ring. He's not =that= ugly."
Of course you'd think so. You spend your days with Sam.
Frodo didn't reply, but I have the sneaking suspicion that he was trying to smother a giggle by stuffing his face into his blanket. After a while of silence, it became obvious that Frodo was either asleep, or had asphyxiated on his blanket. It was boring once more. I had nothing to do but spy on Frodo's friends.
The Orcs had begun settling for the night also. Merry and Pippin were tossed into some forgotten corner, presumably to wait while hobbit-roasting fires were being stoked. They were bound securely, and they were talking in hushed tones about trees being alive. (Well, no shit, trees are alive, I thought.) "Trees that can whisper, talk to each other---even move."
Okay, that's it. They're high again. God knows how they managed to access narcotics while being held hostage.
Something happened with the Orcs at that moment. I missed it, because I was watching Pippin and Merry, but I could see the commotion resulting from it. There was dissent among the troops. They were probably arguing about whether to broil or grill the hobbits. Whatever it was, mayhem ensued, resulting in a lot of running around and screaming and indiscriminate killing. Merry and Pippin saw this as a chance to escape, but before they could crawl away from the Orcs and into the relative safety of the nearby forest, they were caught.
"You're not going anywhere," Hideous Orc Goon #1 said, climbing on top of Pippin.
What is with everyone trying to rape hobbits? Does everyone harbour deep-seated paedophiliac tendencies that get triggered by the sight of their little bodies? Or are they just really rape-able???
Before Pippin could be thoroughly debauched, a random arrow buried itself into the Orc's back.
Suddenly, a whole pack of gallant horsemen blazed in on their valiant steeds, swinging their powerful weapons, striking down Orcs faster than you can say "testosterone".
"Who are they?"
AHH!!! Crap! You scared the shit outta me, Frodo! I thought you were asleep!
"Well, I was trying to be, but =someone= wouldn't be quiet... So, who are the horsemen?"
Yes, the heroic cavalry riding in to save the day. I don't know who they are, but ten bucks says they're related to Aragorn somehow.
"Well, since Merry and Pippin are being rescued by these mysterious horsemen, can we not go to sleep now, assured of their safety?"
Yeah, okay, fine.
I stopped looking in on them, and focussed on getting some sleep. Which was much easier said than done. In between Frodo's and Sam's constant snoring and Gollum's graphic descriptions of what he planned to do with me once he got his hands on me, I didn't get an awful lot of sleep. A few nightmares, perhaps, but little actual sleep.
The next morning, we were up and ready to go at first light.
"Gollum says we shall be able to make our way out of this stone hinterland by noon today," Frodo commented we started our daily walk.
Good to hear. Glad his navigational abilities are better than =a certain someone else's= (coughSAMcough).
We walked for a while. "Sam, would you please stop staring at me that way?"
"I was only glaring at the Ring in anger, Mr. Frodo! I swear!"
"That was not 'anger' I saw in your eyes, Samwise," Frodo said under his breath, tucking me into his shirt.
I didn't really mind too much, because that way I didn't have to look at Gollum, Sam, or the miles and miles of depressing rocks. I had to check in with Aragorn and Legolas anyway.
Wow, you certainly made progress from where I saw you last.
"That is because we spent most of the night gaining ground. We only allowed ourselves two hours' repose," Legolas informed me.
"Oh, they allowed themselves two hours alright, but it was not for reposing, let me tell you," Gimli muttered through his increasingly dirty beard. The thing was disgusting. It was starting to attract fleas and ticks and small rodents. It was almost getting to be as filthy as...as...as Aragorn's hair!
"Any news?" Aragorn asked, veering me back onto the topic at hand.
Well, everyone made it through the night alive over here, and---Aragorn, would you please stop acting so surprised every time you find out we haven't died? We don't need your protection =that= much. Christ. Okay, and I found out some mighty interesting information at Isengard. It seems that Saruman has been a busy little nursing home reject. He is officially in a league with Sauron.
"The White Wizard, a traitor!" Aragorn looked grim. Well, grimmer than usual.
And then Legolas joined him in looking grim. He was gazing off to the horizon and frowning. "A red sun rises this morning," he said.
Sailors take warning?
"No, blood has been spilled this past night."
Oh.
Before this idea could develop, there was a rumbling from a distance. From our experience with cave trolls and Balrogs, we've learned that distant rumbling is not a nice sign. Aragorn quickly ushered them all behind a conveniently placed boulder.
It was the hoard of brave horsemen from last night.
Aragorn quickly stepped out from behind the boulder to greet them. See? I knew he had to at least know them.
"Riders of Rohan, what news from the Mark?"
At the sound of his voice, each and every one of the riders turned his horse and levelled his weapon at Aragorn.
Uh-oh.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - TBC