Oops. Another long delay. But I had a good excuse this time – I only just finished my A-levels, and damn, they took up a lot of my time. Seriously, when you procrastinate as much as me you never get anything done. But I have a lot more free time now, and there's only one chapter of the Fellowship left, and then it is on to the Two Towers, yay!

Ooh yes, and if you're wondering, the whole trilogy is going to be covered in this one story, so no need to go fishing around for sequels.

XXX

The Fellowship slept. Frodo did not. From afar he saw Galadriel sleep walking, and decided to follow her, since he had nothing better to do anyways.

In the end, she led him down into a beautiful garden, by way of another set of unnecessarily steep stairs. In the centre of the lawn stood a huge basin. She filled a silver ewer she had stolen from Legolas with water, and took a swig from it.

"Drink?" she said, offering Frodo the ewer.

The hobbit raised an eyebrow.

"Um, no thanks."

With a shrug, Galadriel turned away. Slowly, she tipped the ewer and made to pour the remnants of its contents into the basin, her eyes fixed directly on the hobbit as she did so. The only problem was a resulting lack of depth perception meant she was actually watering the lawn. Frodo found it hard to keep a straight face.

"Will you look into the mirror?" she asked.

"What will I see?"

Galadriel raised an eyebrow.

"What kind of stupid question is that? It's a mirror, for Eru's sake."

"Well, I don't know," said Frodo. "It doesn't even look like a bloody mirror. It just looks like a birdbath to me."

Galadriel shooed away a dove which was preening its feathers in the water.

"I have no idea what you are talking about."

So, with a roll of his eyes, Frodo stepped up to the mirror, and gazed into its depths. A sleep-deprived hobbit stared back at him. With a hint of embarrassment, he also noticed that his roots were starting to show.

Galadriel began to chant: "Mirror, mirror on the lawn, who is the fairest of them all?"

After a moment the waters stirred, and Legolas appeared in their surface.

Galadriel gave a low growl, and thrust a hand into the waters, fracturing the image. The waters rippled for a moment, and then reassembled into an image of Merry and Pippin. Another growl, and another disturbance of the waters. This time Sam appeared in their surface.

Galadriel thrust her arm into the basin once more, and kept it there.

"Never mind," she growled. "Just show him the damned future."

So the waters stirred again, and this time they showed the Shire. Galadriel lifted her arm out of the basin with a smirk.

However, the idyllic scene before their eyes swiftly changed. Dark figures were marching around, waving scimitars, and cutting down defenceless hobbits. The houses were burning.

"It's the scouring of the Shire!" cried Frodo. "Cool, I really am seeing the future!"

Galadriel coughed.

"Ooh, sorry," said Frodo. "Movieverse, bookverse… y'know, it's hard not to get the two mixed up." The sound of hissing could be heard from the purists in the audience. "…I'll shut up now."

Frodo turned back to the mirror, and suddenly there appeared the Eye of Sauron. He let out a girlish squeal. The Ring grew heavy on its chain about his neck, and he was dragged down by the weight of it. "Gah," he said, "Stupid magnetic Sauron."

So he grabbed the Ring back, and threw himself backwards, falling over. Again.

Galadriel rolled her eyes, along with the rest of the audience.

"I know what it is you saw," said Galadriel. "For I sneaked a look." Frodo picked himself up, and dusted himself off. "It is what will come to pass if you should fail."

"Um, yeah," said the hobbit. "Have you even read the Lord of the Rings? The scouring of the Shire is gonna happen no matter what I do, kthanx."

Galadriel frowned.

"Well, what's the point in that?"

Frodo shrugged.

"Wow," said Galadriel, her frown deepening, "it must really suck to be you."

"Tell me about it."

"So," she said, "what the hell is the point in you even bothering to go on this Quest?"

Frodo shrugged again.

"I dunno."

"Tell you what," said Galadriel, mulling this over. "You can give the Ring to me if you like. That way you won't have to worry about it, and I can hawk it off on eBay."

"Okay then," said Frodo, grinning. "That sounds reasonable. I mean, it's not like you're a complete stranger or anything, and it's not as though I'm shirking off an extremely dangerous item that I swore to guard to my death in front of a council of my peers or anything."

He opened his palm and revealed the Ring. Galadriel began to drool.

"You offer it to me freely," she said. "I do not deny that my heart has greatly desired this."

And so she came for the Ring, but then her schizophrenia kicked in, and suddenly before Frodo there stood a darker (and frankly much hotter) version of Galadriel, who bore more than a passing resemblance to a certain mutated comic book hero.

The hobbit's face fell.

"Somebody is getting sued for copyright infringement."

"IN PLACE OF A DARK LORD," yelled Galadriel/Storm, "YOU WILL HAVE A QUEEN! NOT DARK BUT AS BEAUTIFUL AND TERRIBLE AS THE DAWN! TREACHEROUS AS THE SEA! STRONGER THAN THE FOUNDATIONS OF THE EARTH! ALL SHALL LOVE ME AND DESPAIR!"

Frodo scratched himself on the head.

"Um, yeah. Don't you have a husband already?"

Galadriel's eyes went blank, and she stood a moment, rolling the word over and over on her tongue: "Hus..band?"

Frodo's face fell.

"Never mind."

Probably sensing how ridiculous she looked, Galadriel soon returned to normal.

"I pass the test!" she said, with a gentle laugh. "I will diminish, and go into the West, and remain Galadriel."

Frodo just stood there.

"What in the hell are you talking about?"

She shook her head.

"I have absolutely no idea."

Frodo put his face in his hands.

XXX

Orthanc. 1800 hours.

All work and no play make Saruman a dull wizard.

Solution: Inspect the troops.

"Do you know how the Orcs first came into being?" said Saruman. "They were elves once, taken by the dark powers. Tortured and mutilated, a ruined and terrible form of life. Now perfected - my fighting Uruk-Hai. Whom do you serve?"

Lurtz the Uruk-hai raised an eyebrow.

"Who the heck says 'whom' anymore?"

Saruman smacked him.

"Just say your one damn line in the scene. And put some heart into it!"

"Umm, SARUMAN?"

"That's better."

And the wizard watched the other Uruks being fitted with armour and armed with crude scimitars.

"Hunt them down!" cried Saruman. "Do not stop until they are found. You do not know pain. You do not know fear. You will taste man flesh!"

They all growled. Actually, it was their stomachs that did the growling. They hadn't eaten since being born, which was only a few scenes ago, but still. They had large appetites.

"One of the halflings carries something of great value," said Saruman. "Bring them to me alive and unspoiled. Kill the others!" He looked upon them with an evil grin, and then cried, "Fetch!"

And the Uruk-hai all ran off like faithful dogs, with their tongues and tails wagging. Yes, they had tails.

It was a fetish thing.

XXX

And so the Company prepared to leave fair Lothlórien, after a short and rather uneventful stay within its borders. Aragorn had washed his hair, and somebody shot a duck, but that was about it.

In the end Frodo had kept his Ring, since he figured giving it to a dominatrix, schizophrenic, telepathic elf maiden was not the best of ideas. That, and Peter Jackson had yelled at him about it.

"Look what Galadriel gave to me!" he said to Sam, digging around in his pocket. The two hobbits were currently sat in an elven boat steered by Aragorn, who kept performing barrel rolls, much to their annoyance.

In the hobbit's hand there lay a crystal vial, which was sparkling with some unknown radiance.

Sam was unimpressed: "What is it?"

Frodo shrugged.

"I don't know, but look how shiny!"

Aragorn – who had been eavesdropping as he steered the boat – spoke up: "It's the Light of Earendil, you twonk."

"What's a Light of Earendil?" asked Sam.

The ranger shrugged.

"Haven't got a clue, but look how shiny!"

A little further downstream, Boromir was steering another boat containing Merry and Pippin. Beside them floated Gimli and a rather distressed Legolas, who was complaining that he didn't have enough room for all of his beauty products, and so something would have to be jettisoned.

In the end, a fiercely protesting dwarf was thrown out of the boat.

XXX

And so the Company sailed along the Anduin. In the surrounding forests, the Uruk-hai ran. The Company sailed. The Uruk-hai ran. The Uruk-hai were so busy watching the Company sailing, they ran smack off the edge off of a cliff.

Saruman began squeezing very hard on a Chinese worry ball.

"This is doing nothing for my image," he muttered.

XXX

The Company, watching yet another band of Uruk-hai run themselves off a cliff, all muttered: "This is doing nothing for his image."

Then they turned their attention back to the Not-So-Great River. It was just a bunch of water. No big deal really.

Aragorn tapped Frodo on the shoulder.

"The Argonath!" he said. "Long have I desired to look upon the kings of old. My kin!"

And so Frodo lifted his head, and saw on the horizon two towering figures of rock, carved from the living mountainside. They stood on either side of the River, and each held out their palm by way of warning to travelers. He gazed on them in awe.

But then they drew closer, and Frodo's expression changed. The figures before them seemed to shrink, and by the time they reached them, they stood no taller than a hobbit.

Aragorn was so excited, he began to rock the boat and squeal in delight. Frodo and Sam turned and glared at him. His mouth froze in the middle of a 'Woohoo!'

"What?" he asked.

"They're tiny!"

He frowned.

"Your point being?"

"Well, wouldn't they be a tad more impressive if they were, say, a hundred feet tall?"

Aragorn shrugged.

"Nah. That'd just be pretentious."

Frodo gaped.

"Well, sorry to seem pretentious Mr. Oh-by-the-way-did-I-mention-I'm-King?"

Sam nudged him.

"That's book Aragorn, Mr. Frodo. Movie Aragorn is Mr. Oh-woe-is-me-I-don't-wanna-be-King!"

The vein above Frodo's eye began to tick.

"Does it really BLOODY WELL MATTER?"

And all the book purists in the audience leapt from their seats and yelled: "IT BLOODY WELL DOES!"

Sam rubbed his forehead.

"You had to go there, didn't you?"

XXX

The Fellowship finally reached the falls of Rauros, after a few boring days of river travel, wherein Boromir had tried to knock Legolas out of his boat and drown him in the Anduin. All sixty attempts had failed, to the displeasure of everyone.

As they pulled up on the shore of Parth Galen, Boromir looked troubled. Everyone just assumed it was due to his failed attempts at murder, but Frodo had other ideas as the Fellowship set up camp and Pippin stoked the world's smallest camp fire. Legolas decided to just stand there and stare blankly into the trees. No one cared why.

"We cross the lake at nightfall," said Aragorn, picking up everyone's dirty washing. "Hide the boats and continue on foot. We approach Mordor from the north."

"Oh, yes?" said Gimli. "And then it's just a simple matter of finding our way through Emyn Muil, an impassable labyrinth of razor sharp rocks! And after that, it gets even better! Festering, stinking marshlands far as the eye can see!"

Pippin smacked him.

"Don't leak details of the next movie!"

Legolas seemed to have finished with his blank staring, since he came over to Aragorn and pulled him aside.

"We should leave now," he said.

"Why?"

"Because!" Legolas pouted. "I'm getting hardly any screen time in this scene. You just had a conversation with Gimli for Eru's sake." He grabbed Aragorn by the collar and shook him. "Gimli!"

Merry returned to the camp with some firewood, and frowned.

"Where's Frodo?" he asked.

And they realised the hobbit was missing.

"What in Eru could he be doing?" wondered Aragorn.

XXX

Frodo was skipping through the forest.

"La, la, la," he sang.

He then saw a giant head amongst the leaves, and let out a girlish squeal. After poking it with a stick though, he deduced that it was made of stone and so unlikely to eat him.

Frodo went back to his skipping. A few feet away, Boromir was also skipping, and collecting firewood. Once he saw the hobbit however, he stopped skipping and put on an air of manliness.

"None of us should wander alone," he said. "You least of all. So much depends on you. Frodo?" The hobbit stopped skipping, but did not answer. "I know why you seek solitude. You suffer; I see it day by day. Are you sure you do not suffer needlessly? There are other ways, Frodo, other paths that we might take."

"What paths?" asked Frodo. "What do you suggest I do – bungee jump into Mordor? Dig a tunnel under Mount Doom? Better yet, I could phone up the King of the Eagles and ask him to give me an all-expenses-paid flight into Mordor. Does that sound at all feasible to you?"

Boromir paused.

"Well, actually-"

"No!" cried Frodo, waving his arms in the air. "No, I don't want to hear it! I have to take the Ring to Mordor alone. This is the only path, or at least the only path that will take three films to wander."

Boromir massaged his temples.

"Frodo, don't you see that this is madness?"

"There is no other way!" said Frodo, folding his arms in a huff. "Galadriel said so."

"And you believe everything Galadriel tells you?" The man rolled his eyes. "If Galadriel told you to jump off a cliff, would you?"

Frodo shrugged.

Boromir groaned, and turned his face to the sky.

"Why Eru, why? I ask only for the strength to defend my people!" He threw his firewood to the ground, and folded his own arms in a huff. They both stood there, unblinking. Frodo's eyes began to water. "If you would but lend me the Ring..."

"No."

"But-"

"No."

Boromir grew angry: "Why do you recoil? I am no thief."

"You are not yourself," said Frodo sternly.

"What chance do you think you have?" cried Boromir. "Seriously? The implausibility of this story completely astounds me."

Frodo turned away.

"Fool!" he spat, chasing after the dear little hobbit, whose legs had turned to jelly. "You're completely clueless, aren't you? It is not yours save by an unhappy chance. It could have been mine!" He rugby tackled Frodo, and started groping him for all he was worth. Frodo's eyes bulged in horror.

"Boromir!" he said, scandalized.

"It should be mine!" whined Boromir. "Give it to me!"

They began to struggle. Frodo gasped.

"I'm sorry, but I'm just not that kind of hobbit!"

"Give me the Ring!" grunted Boromir.

And Frodo had no choice but to put on the Ring and get the heck outta there. He gave Boromir a quick kick in the gonads, just for, well, kicks.

The man fell to the floor, clutching his groin and howling in pain. Frodo quickly left.

"Frodo!" he yelled, seething. "How dare you damage the Gondorian jewels! I see your mind. You will take the Ring to Sauron! You will betray us! You go to your death and the death of us all! Curse you! Curse you and all the halflings!"

Then he tripped over his own cloak, and fell smack on his face. He passed a hand over his eyes. The madness had left him.

"Frodo?" he said, his lip quivering. "Frodo? What have I done? Frodo!"

But the hobbit did not answer. Boromir let out a whimper, and crawled off to find an icepack.