BREAKING NEWS! I still don't own anything. And I thought I would start answering reviews because you are all such lovely Sue-haters! ^^
AaylaKitofNiflheim - Thank you! I prefer to refer to her as wossherface because to pronounce her name I have to say it really slowly.
Vana Jedi - *rubs head* Were the words Call Me Maybe used? NO! You specified that those words were not to be mentioned, so I did not use them! French is fun, I once accidentally said that a boy got dressed with his grandparents instead of living with them. Good times.
Meepalicious - I'm sorry to inform you that the Orcs have worse numbers up their sequined sleeves! I feel bad for Glorfindel too.
trollalalala - Thank you! I'm not so much clever as possibly mad. My brain works in mysterious ways.
Beth - Thank you!
androidilenya - Poor Glorfindel, he really isn't having a good time. Anything that sings Call Me Maybe is terrifying. Especially when it is the boy who sits behind me in Maths and can't hold a tune to save his life.
Guest - Thank you! More madness is on the way!
"I didn't know yetis lived at the top of Caradhras," Merry commented as they trudged along the path by the lake.
"Believe me, Master Meriadoc, I think they were as surprised as we were to discover them sitting in a snow drift like that," Gandalf said. He glanced over one shoulder to where Galabríawenúthien was walking with Leggy. The elleth had somehow managed to skin, cure and sew the yeti pelts into a fur coat which she was now wearing. The garment was ridiculously oversized and trailed through all the muck she walked through yet failed to pick it up, instead staying bright and white.
"Gnargh! Naa 'alls nog Mwahahia!" Gimli mumbled in awe, a finger extending through the beard to point dramatically. The Hobbits jumped as orchestral music swelled from a rock formation to their left. It built steadily into a crescendo of trumpets; culminating in the rocks springing forward and a moth-eaten red carpet rolling forth.
"I'm guessing that is where the door is," Boromir said.
"Is that so? Is it like a magic portal?" Pippin asked. He took a head-long sprint down the carpet and was only stopped from knocking himself out against the wall by Gandalf managing to hook his staff into his jacket and pulling him away.
"No! It's shut, you idiot!" he thundered. "Dwarf doors are invisible when closed!"
A cloud moved from in front of the moon. With a soft ching, the door became outlined against the rock in a silvery colour.
"Look, it matches your hair!" Leggy sighed, resuming in his stroking of Galabríawenúthien's hair again.
"Wow, it is very invisible," Boromir said sarcastically. Gimli and Gandalf both whirled around to glare at him.
"I was just about to explain that," Gandalf said and turned back to the door.
He fixed the runes above door with a terrifying, analytical eye. "The Halls of Moria. Proprietor and Landlord, Durin. Cometh in for a goode time, all year rounde! Just speak friend, and enter, for the beste night of thy life!"
"What is that supposed to mean?" Merry asked.
"We need the password to get in," Gandalf grumbled. He looked at Gimli. "Any ideas, Master Dwarf?"
Gimli shrugged, sending a boiled ham and some vegetables crashing down from his beard.
"Mellon," Galabríawenúthien said breathily. With a second fanfare, the doors swung open. Gandalf glared at Galabríawenúthien as Leggy and the Hobbits all clamoured to congratulate her. "You translated the runes wrong, Mithrandir," she simpered. "It should be - say friend, and enter."
"Come on, let's get inside," Aragorn said. "It is far too quiet out here."
He turned and scanned the large pool next to the door. It had been still, far too still, when they arrived. Now tiny ripples were making their way across the water.
The Fellowship edged slowly through the door. Gandalf pulled a small crystal and affixed it to the top of his staff, allowing light to radiate around the dark chamber.
Bodies, dressed in neon leggings and arm warmers through various stages of decay, lined the hall.
"This is no mine, it's a tomb," Boromir intoned gravely.
There was a tremendous crash from behind them. They turned to see a figure rising from the pool. It stretched out its arms towards them and lumbered forward.
"One more drink'sh, jus'ch one more, itchy bitchy drink!" it slurred, shoving the Hobbits aside brutally as it tried to get inside. It stopped and frisked itself madly. "Ma wallet! Got no money!" it wailed and then its gaze fell on Frodo knocked to the floor. Before anyone could react, it had leapt on him with a slurred "C'mon pal, gimme a bit o' gold. Just enough for an itchy bitchy drink!"
Aragorn leapt forward and pulled the... drunken thing off of Frodo.
"Listen to me!" he commanded. The thing started to protest but the Ranger gripped it firmly. "You are drunk. You need to go home!" he said fiercely. It paused and then nodded in understanding.
"OK, OK. I'll go home," it agreed and then wrapped its stinking arms around him. "I looooove you, man. You are my bestest buddy."
Aragorn patted it gingerly on the shoulder and then it staggered off back towards the water. At the edge of the pool, it turned and waved at them merrily before collapsing face-first into the water.
"That was interesting," Gandalf muttered.
"Could have been worse. It could have been some crazy tentacle thing that tried to eat Master Frodo," Sam said, waving after it. The Fellowship all chuckled to themselves.
As if that would actually happen.
Gandalf sat on the rock, his pipe in his mouth. His eyes watched her carefully. This was bad. Affecting the people she came across was understandable but this, this was on another level. She had completely changed an already established event. Everywhere, there were bodies of dwarves in garments of shocking neon colours. He had seen very little in the way of mining equipment, just these disgustingly coloured legwarmers and a load of empty bottles. An awful amount of empty bottles. The whole place felt like... like... one big tavern!
There was a scrabbling from below the precipice they were resting on. Gandalf peered over the edge and was relieved to see Gollum still following them. Then he heard what Gollum was muttering to himself.
"Stupid dwarveses. Why is there no handrail, my love? Gollum, Gollum! And the slope of these steps... Nearly tripped we did. Very unsafe, precious, very unsafe."
"Welcome to great Dwarf City of Dwarrowdelf," Gandalf announced.
"Mmhnse mmm Dunpissedin," Gimli added. The Fellowship made appreciative noises and looked around with interest. A flash of light made Gandalf look around. Merry was holding a strange, slightly smoking contraption to his eye. He grinned sheepishly.
"Just taking a few photographs. A few mementoes..." he said warily.
Suddenly Gimli roared like he was in pain and charged off into a side chamber. The Fellowship followed closely and came across a single tomb, that Gimli was now howling against.
Gandalf pulled the tatty book out of a dead dwarf's grasp, one of many in the room, and peered at the faded runes.
"Bugger," he read. "Ulfri got pissed and dropped the sodding key down Khazad-Dûm. We cannot get out."
Pippin, not particularly caring about the fate of the dwarves, was looking around the room with interest. The floor was a lovely silver material that reflected all light, including that of Gandalf's staff and Galabríawenúthien's hair. Against one wall was a very large, shiny, red button. The young hobbit edged forward, his eyes gleaming with curiosity. Of course, he could not read the Dwarven runes carved into the wall above it that quite firmly stated DO NOT TOUCH!1!
"They have taken the bridge and the only decent bar. We cannot get out," Gandalf continued. He paused over the last few lines before reading them aloud, not quite believing what was written there. "Disco. Disco in the deep…"
Pippin pushed the button with all his might. The Fellowship jumped and drew their assorted weapons and Äwoöglefruķell cookware as, with the great clanking and whirring of gears in desperate need of maintenance, a giant ball of mithril descended from the high ceiling. The ball sent the light flashing and spinning all over the chamber as music blared down on the Fellowship from all angles.
"Someone turn it off!" Aragorn bellowed, clamping his hands over his ears. Pippin thumped the button again but all that achieved was the lights flashing even more viciously and if possible the music increasing in volume.
A giant fireball exploded from the tip of Gandalf's staff and flew into the mithril ball. It shattered and crashed to the floor, showering everyone with tiny shards of mithril.
"Is everybody alright? Nobody is hurt?" Aragorn asked. "Gandalf?"
Gandalf was staring at the end of his staff in pure disbelief. He would never use such a power. He did not have such a power. He lifted his gaze and a chill ran through his blood. Galabríawenúthien had a small, smug smile curving round her lips. It vanished almost as soon as he met her gaze and was replaced with worry.
"Mithrandir, are you well?" she asked, false concern laced through her voice.
"I'm fine!" he snapped and whirled on Pippin. "Fool of a Took! Next time, knock yourself out against the wall instead!"
Pippin's bottom lip started to tremble. It wasn't the only thing. Stones were bouncing on the floor. The ears of Leggy and Galabríawenúthien twitched as they heard a horrifying noise.
Disco in the Deep.
"Well, you can tell by the way I use my walk, I'm a woman's man, no time to talk!"
"Orcs!" Leggy snarled and drew his bow. The Fellowships closed ranks around Frodo and the other Hobbits and waited for the hordes of Orcs to burst through the door.
As the Disco crept ever closer, Boromir peeked around the door and then hastily retreated back to them.
"They have a Cave Troll," he said.
"Ah, ha, ha, ha, stayin' alive, stayin' alive!" the Orcs trilled as they broke down the door. Leggy and Galabríawenúthien loosed arrows into the midst as Boromir and Aragorn charged at the Orcs. The Hobbits also charged, swinging Sting, Westernesse swords and an Äwoöglefruķell wok with a vengeance.
The Orcs hauled on a chain and the Troll lumbered through the door. Gandalf pitied it, he really did. The stupid thing was a slave anyway, it really didn't need to be stuffed into a tutu.
"This fight is hopeless!" Galabríawenúthien declared.
"I think we are going to be fine, actually. We have a remarkable track record for surviving when hopelessly outnumbered," Gandalf said as he plunged Glamdring through an Orc's glittering chest.
"No!" she cried and spread her arms. Her hair, of wilver so pure it shone in the Moria dark, began to glow even brighter and brighter! Choral music sprang from the ceiling.
"The light of Elbereth Gilthoniel!" Leggy cried. Gandalf winced and covered his eyes. The light of a decent high-shine conditioner more like. A pressure was building in his head, the light was blinding even through his closed eyes. There was an enormous crash and the light and music subsided.
"Is everyone alright?" Aragorn asked. He moved around the chamber, helping the dazed Hobbits back onto their feet. Galabríawenúthien gasped as her face turned pale. Her knees buckled but before she could fall, Leggy leapt across the room and caught her.
Gandalf stared around the room at the Orcs and the Troll lying knocked out on the floor.
"Gandalf?" Aragorn said. He laid a hand on his friend's shoulder.
"We should move from this place," Gandalf said quietly. He glanced across Galabríawenúthien, still in Leggy's embrace. "I fear her evil is growing stronger by the minute."
He struggled and tried to pull himself up and over the ledge but his strength failed him. The one creature he had been hoping to be affected by her powers wasn't. Amidst all the neon and singing and empty bottles, the Balrog had still been its terrible self. Even Galabríawenúthien had fled upon hearing its growl.
They had fought and he had smashed the bridge. And now he was waiting for the fall.
He didn't see Frodo running towards him, Boromir holding him back, Aragorn standing there in shock. He only saw Galabríawenúthien. She was standing at the back of the group. That small, smug smile was there, together with an unbelievable malice and cruelty in her eyes. Just before he let go, just before he began the long plummet into the darkness of Khazad-Dûm, he saw her mouth three words that sent fear coursing through him like he'd never felt before.
"I win, Mithrandir."
We now have a plot! *dramatic noise* A sort of plot, anyway. *Less dramatic noise*
The only thing I am offering this time is Seasons Greetings and a very merry Christmas to you!