Finding Mordor
By Squishy
I quite apologize if I do not live up to certain… standards. This is not meant to be the absolute perfect cross-over, in fact, it's barely a cross-over at all. It is 8 parts LotR and 1 part Finding Nemo, each storyline being altered a LOT to fit somehow. This means not having every part in order. I fully accept that my story cannot and will not be the next Rosencrantz & Guildenstern Are Dead – a Hamlet fanfiction that was published and marketed. No matter what, the important thing is that I make me happy. And I do. -
ALSO! Thank you very much to all my reviewers! Gord and V, The Randomist, biach goddess leah, Duct Tape Kitten, xCrazyforRemusLupinx, and lotrelves! LOVE YOU ALL!
I have a feeling that some may hate me for the Nemo reference here with the elves, but it cannot be helped. Throw your stones. I can take them all and build a castle. Muahahaha
Disclaimer: Sauron said he'd give me half of Middle Earth. But he hasn't been returning my phone calls.. or my emails... not even my Facebook pokes!! I'm starting to worry... : \
The four hobbits helplessly trudged along after Aragorn. As they walked, they nagged the mysterious man until he explained everything.
The rider in black that was spotted by the Brandywine Ferry and the identical riders Merry had seen in Bree were Ringwraiths. They were the Nazgul, the personal servants and the go-fers of the Dark Lord Sauron himself. A shadow of evil had begun to grow in the East, and they were sent out to scour the land for the One Ring. The power called out to them, they who once were the nine great, but greedy, Kings of Men.
The hobbits bickered with and snipped at each other, cranky without their multiple meals. Pippin was particularly fussy. Being the youngest of the four, and the wealthiest, he was a bit spoiled and found it hard to adjust to life outside hobbit culture.
Finally, at one point, Pippin just could not handle it anymore. The rumbling in his stomach could no longer be ignored. He picked up an acorn and chucked it: the nut finding its mark on the back of Aragorn's head. The Ranger, however, paid him no mind. He carried onward. Several acorns later, Aragorn stopped to face the short and scared hobbit.
"What?" he said.
Pippin glowered. It wasn't so intimidating, as it just came off as an adorable pout. "I. am. Hungry." His eye twitched. Hobbit meals are serious business.
"Very well," conceded Aragorn. "One QUICK meal. And then no more stops until nightfall."
The hobbits agreed to these terms greatfully, and flopped down on their rumps to eat. Aragorn was clearly miffed by this, and sat himself down, leaning against a tree stump and began to dose.
Pippin peered right into his face, his mouth filled with potatoes and carrots. "Hey, Mr. Grumpy-swordzz," he said. Aragorn did his best to ignore the bizarre little hobbit. "When life gets you down, you know what you gotta do?"
"No, I don't and I don't want t-"
Pippin cut him off, bursting into song and shoving food items into Aragorn's face. "Just keep eating! Just keep eating! Just keep eating eating – what do we do, we eat eat. A-ha-ha-hoo I love to eaaat fooood. When you waaaant to eat you just-"
Aragorn shoved the hobbit off of himself. "Would you quit with that song?! Agh Now it's in my head!!!"
Pippin giggled sheepishly and continued his meal in peace.
They finally stopped at Weathertop, well after night fell. The watch tower's ruins revealed much of the surrounding area. The hobbits sought shelter in a small alcove in the stones, and there they rested their feet and began preparing a meal. Strider, who was very talented at recognizing trails, searched the area and found evidence of Gandalf, who must've passed through a few days ago. There were fairly recent remnants of a doused fire, as well as Longbottom Leaf ashes from the pipe he so often used when deep in thought.
Five of the wraiths gathered in the dell below Weathertop. Each glared menacingly up towards the dining hobbits. They kept their distance, however, as they were opposed to the flames. The light made them weak, and they avoided it at all costs.
The largest and scariest of the wraiths stood before the other four and said in a terrifying voice, "All right, the meeting has officially come to order. Let us all say the pledge."
All of the Nazgul joined in chorus, raising their right ghost-like hands and said, "I am a Ring Wraith, superior killing machine. If I am to find the Ring, I must first find the hobbit. Sauron rules, humans drool."
"All right then. I will start the testimonies," said the leader wraith. "My name is Witchking."
"Hello, Witchking." They all replied in unison. They would have rolled their eyes if they had them.
He raised a ghostly arm. "It has been three weeks since my last hug, on my honor! Or may my head be chopped up and made into soup."
The others applauded him.
"You're an inspiration to us all!" one cried out.
"Amen!" another agreed.
"Oh look!" one of he wraiths pointed up the hill towards a faint light. "Hobbits!"
Witchking smiled and their meeting immediately ended.
Five large shadows creeped up on the four in the darkness, and as their fire died down and immersed them into the night, they attacked.
The hobbits scrambled to find their small daggers – large swords to them – and they hopped to their feet, still unsure of how to defend themselves and how to actually use their swords. Frantic in the darkness, Samwise, Meriadoc, and Peregrin bravely attempted to defend Frodo and the Ring. But Frodo couldn't resist – he wanted to disappear out of sight of these creatures. He wanted all four of them to disappear and come back somewhere safe. He slid the ring onto his finger and was immersed into a shadow-world.
Frodo, now invisible, was dazed by the swirling mists around him. He could, however, see the wraiths distinctly. He backed away as fast as he could, knowing full well that they could now see him just as sharply. His stomach dropped heavily with impending doom and he felt his mistake.
Three of the wraiths shoved the other hobbits to the side, disregarding them completely. Frodo felt a bit relieved for a very short instant, knowing his friends were safe for the time being. It was a relief that, in the next instant, was completely shattered. The five wraiths created a formation towards and around him, trapping him. Frodo wrenched off the Ring with the hopes of becoming difficult to see once more, but there was no hope anymore. One of the five approached him, and Frodo slashed at its feet, or where its feet ought to have been. The wraith screeched with a penetrating, shrill, agonizing squeal. The sound was excruciatingly painful for all the hobbits, and they all doubled over, clutching their large, sensitive ears in pain. Then the foremost Black Rider, quite obviously their leader, attacked Frodo and stabbed him in the shoulder.
It was then that they were saved, quite miraculously, by Aragorn, who ran in swinging a torch and his own razor-sharp sword, Andúril. He fought the wraiths off, who were stunned and weakened by the light of the torch.
As soon as his battle was over, he rushed over to Frodo, around whom the others were huddled. Frodo's eyes were rolled back into his head, the open sockets revealing only the white-and-bloodshot sclera. His body was doused in a clammy sweat and he was going into shock. Blood oozed from around the blade, sticking straight up from between his shoulder and collarbone.
Aragorn slowly pulled on the wraith's dagger until it slid from the little hobbit's flesh. In his hand, the blade dissolved into nothingness.
"A Morgul blade..." he said. "He will soon fall into the darkness, becoming one of them."
Pippin let out in involuntary squeak.
"What do we do?" cried Merry. "We can't just sit here and let him die like this!"
"He needs elvish medicine, come."
Sam had instantly whipped out a cloth, wetted it and laid it on his forehead to try and cool him down. His face was contorted with complete and total worry for his friend. But Frodo was already slipping from consciousness...
"Duude..." said a strange, musical voice in the nothingness. "Duuuude..."
Something or someone was calling him from his place of peace. He was so comfortable and warm, and he didn't want to get up. But the voice persisted and he finally gave in to it.
Frodo allowed himself to crack open one eye to see a large, human-like face peering down at him. He was incredibly tall and he had fair skin and long, dark hair. The grey eyes stared at Frodo as if examining him. His ears slid to slight point, revealing his elven race.
"Ai, he lives! Hey dude!" laughed the elf, his eyes twinkling with a light that shines on elves alone.
Frodo sat up and groaned. He felt kind of sick.
"Woah, no hurling on the floors, okay? Just waxed 'em. ...Oh, and such a lucky thing I saw those wraiths coming and sent somebody out to find you, dude. Glorfindel saw the whole thing, man."
It was then that Frodo noticed a second elf standing behind the other. He too was very fair and tall. He stood straight and proud, and his golden hair shined in the mid-afternoon sunlight. His eyes were bright and when he smiled, it brought joy to Frodo's heart. Frodo had heard of the grace and beauty of all elves from Bilbo, but actually feeling the effect was quite different than imagining it.
"Yea, man," said Glorfindel. "First the wraiths were like WOAH. Then you were all like WOAAAH! Then you were like… woaah."
"...What are you talking about?" mumbled Frodo. He had done his best to learn elvish with Bilbo, but this was just ridiculous.
"You, mini-man!" chuckled the first elf. "Takin' on the wraithies. Awesome – you've got serious thrill issues, dude."
"Uh.. Mr. Elf..." Frodo started.
"Dude." The elf seemed a bit taken aback. "Mr. Elf is my father. The names Elrond Half-Elven."
" 'Half'? Really? Okay.. Um.. Elrond, I need to get to Rivendell. The Last Homely House?"
The two elves chuckled to themselves knowingly. "Hah-hah. You're HERE, dude! Come on, take a look!"
He helped Frodo out of the very large, very fluffy and very comfortable bed to an open window. It revealed a large complex of elvish homes, buildings which seemed one with nature. Rivendell lay on the edge of a narrow gorge in the Misty Mountains, the river Bruinen flowing fast between the rock walls.
Just below the window, in a peaceful courtyard, stood two elves, clad in elvish armor. They had been talking with each other, but in sensing Frodo's gaze, they looked up. Each had a face identical to the other, and both looked just like Elrond. Their hair was a lighter shade of brown and their eyes were both a very bright shade of blue.
They both grinned and waved up at Frodo and Elrond.
Elrond introduced them loudly, "Offspring, Wraith-man. Wraith-man, Offspring."
"Wraiths?!" said one of the twins. "Sweet."
"Totally." agreed the other, nodding his head. These were two of Elrond's three children: the twin brothers Elladan and Elrohir, the youngest being his beautiful daughter Arwen Undómiel.
"Chya. Elladan 'n Elrohir are going to check out the remains of those Nazgul Wraiths, man."
"After you passed out, man," said Glorfindel. "I took you from Aragorn and brought you here on my glorious steed Asfaloth. Dude, those wraiths totally wanted you. They followed us the whole way to the Bruinen river ford. Dude-Elrond and Dude-Gandalf totally saved us by workin their maagic on the riiverr… Sweeet."
"Yea, so tomorrow, mini-man," said Elrond. "We'll be having a meeting to decide the fate o' that ring thing you got. Be there or be square, dude."
"O.. Kay?"
"Peace out!" the two elves said, bowed elegantly and left the room.
Frodo was very confused.
A/N: Well, it's been a while, but that's because I was on vacation on Assateague Island, Maryland! And I just moved into college! Scaryy (I'm a freshman again. Damn.)
As usual, tell me what you're thinking!