Yay! I updated xD As you can probably guess, I've finished all my exams so fanfic is starting to take priority again. Hopefully the next chapter will be up soonish as well, since I have most of it written.

Thanks again for all your reviews and favourites, guys. It really does make me smile to know that people are enjoying my randomness :)

XXX

And thanks to the magic of cinema, time had suddenly reverted to the previous evening's events, in which two young hobbits fled blindly into the tangled mess that was Fangorn Forest, pursued by the slightly ticked off orc known as Grishnákh, who, despite a major stab wound, was stumbling along quite favourably.

"Come on!" he was crying, rather pathetically, "I just wanna talk!"

Merry and Pippin were having none of it though, and continued to run whilst dodging the approaching trees and bushes with many a curse and a grunt. Suddenly they had run out into a slight clearing. Grishnákh was gone.

"Did we lose him?" asked Pippin. He looked about. "I think we lost him."

There was a snarl as Grishnákh jumped out at them from the shadows. Merry rolled his eyes.

"Elven cloaks, my ass!"

They both ran away and climbed up some nearby trees, since climbing a tree makes one much less conspicuous. For a moment there was silence.

"He's gone," said Merry, with a sigh.

But Merry had forgotten one of the golden rules of cinema: never, ever sigh in relief. It will result in said sigher being cruelly jumped upon by their attacker. And that is exactly what happened. Merry was suddenly flung to the ground by Grishnákh, who loomed over him with his jagged sword.

Merry squealed. Then a shadow fell upon them both.

The hobbit jumped back in horror, as a tree stump fell from above and crushed the orc into something resembling a giant pizza. On further evaluation, however, once Merry had been lifted up by a large gnarled hand and looked up into a set of eyes embedded within the trunk, he guessed that it was instead a living, breathing tree, which was none too happy to see him.

"Little Orcs! Burárum..." The tree then looked down, and lifted up one of its feet. "Eww. What did I just step in?"

Rather conveniently, Pippin had been picked up by the tree's other hand.

"It's talking, Merry. The tree is talking!"

"Well duh."

The tree shook its head (or, y'know, whatever constitutes as a head on a giant tree).

"I'm not a tree!" it said. "I am an Ent."

Pippin's face remained blank.

 "A treeherder," explained Merry. "A shepherd of the forest."

Pippin just frowned.

"How on Middle Earth can you herd trees? They don't even move."

No one had a chance to provide a sufficient answer, however, since a helmet came hurtling through the trees above their heads at that very moment. They all gave it a rather confused look.

"So yes," said the Ent, breaking the silence, "Treebeard, some call me."

"Oh," said Pippin, "and how did you get that name then?"

Merry just rolled his eyes.

"You know," he said, "your voice sounds awfully familiar…"

Treebeard cleared his throat.

"Yes, well, this way I get two paychecks…"

"And whose side are you on?"

"Side? I am on nobody's side because nobody is on my side, little orc. Nobody cares for the woods anymore."

"Well, you never call, you never write…"

Merry raised a hand.

"Um, yeah. We're not orcs, we're hobbits. Duh."

Treebeard pulled out his copy of the Encyclopaedia Middle Earth…ica, and spent a few minutes looking up the word 'hobbits'.

"Hmm. According to this, you are 'a Japanese manga and anime series about a student and his blonde android…'"

Merry's face fell.

"That's Chobits."

"Oh." Treebeard put the book away. "I figured you were orcs or something, y'know." His eyes narrowed. "You're not orcs, are you? 'Cause that would be a bit of a problem." His grip upon them tightened. "Me no likey orcs."

"No, no," Merry protested, as he struggled for air. "You don't understand. We're hobbits! Halflings! Shirefolk!"

They had reached a clearing. Treebeard stopped crushing them for a moment, and pondered over these words.

"Maybe you are and maybe you aren't. The White Wizard will know."

"The White Wizard?" said Pippin.

Merry's face filled with horror.

"Saruman."

The next moment, Treebeard tossed them both to the ground. They looked up at the figure towering above them, complete with long white hair and cloak.

"Ooh," said Pippin, grinning in relief, "hi Gandalf!" And he waved inanely. "Aren't you supposed to be dead or something?"

The wizard slapped himself in the forehead.

"Look, why do you think we chose this camera angle? Why do you think Treebeard didn't just call me Gandalf? Why do you think this scene was meant to cut away without any dialogue?" Silence. "BECAUSE THE AUDIENCE WASN'T SUPPOSED TO KNOW IT WAS ME DAMMIT!" Gandalf jumped up and down, waving his arms about like a loon.

Pippin frowned.

"Well, how was I supposed to know? And if the scene was meant to cut away in silence, why is it still going on? I mean, the film makers must be pretty dumb to keep this exchange in and completely ruin the suspense. Don't get me wrong, but you think they'd have cut away by-"

XXX

Meanwhile…

"So I says to Mabel, I says…"

Frodo just rolled his eyes, and continued to ignore Sam's inane chatter. Close on Gollum's heels, the two hobbits were clambering up a rise of rocks towards the summit of the Emyn Muil. Mordor was clearly visible in the distance.

Sam stopped for a moment, and shielded his eyes against the glare.

"I hope they have a buffet – I'm starving."

XXX

The light was beginning to fade a few hours later, as the hobbits followed Gollum through increasingly difficult terrain. The rocks of the Emyn Muil had long given way to a landscape of grass and mud.

The next moment, Sam's foot slipped into a pool of mud. He withdrew it with horror.

"It's a bog!" Sam cried. "He's led us into a swamp!"

Frodo rolled his eyes.

"Yes, genius, that's what I've been saying for the last twenty minutes."

Gollum nodded voraciously.

"A swamp, yes, yes. Come, master. We will take you on safe paths through the mist." He wandered on ahead.

"What mist?" asked Sam. "And how hard is it to navigate a swamp anyways? Just don't step on the watery bits, I reckon."

Gollum stopped in his tracks.

"Look," he hissed, turning around and glaring at the hobbit, "I don't constantly question your right to be in this movie, so kindly please shut the hell up, okay?"

Sam's eyes narrowed.

"Y'know, these marshes are the perfect place to dump a dead body…"

Frodo came between them.

"Woah, guys, just chill out. Nobody is saying that Gollum is useless." Gollum seethed. "And no one is saying that Sam is stupid, fat, ugly and annoying." Sam's face fell. "Now, no one really wants to murder anyone, do they?" The two glared at him. "Er, never mind."

The marshes were immense, stretching for miles in all directions, with the peak of Mordor nothing but a distant flare upon the horizon. Flames were flickering amongst the reeds. As they continued on, the hobbits also noticed corpses floating in the water, dressed in all manner of armour. Sam's eyes widened at the sight.

"I see dead people."

Frodo had a look for himself.

"Oh, Sam, stop being so superstitious." He picked up a nearby stick, and poked at one of the corpses.

"All dead," said Gollum, "All rotten. Elves and men and orcses. A great battle long ago…"

The hobbits studied the corpses in fascination. Sam knelt down near a patch of reeds.

"Look," he said, "there's a piece of Gil-Galad over here."

Gollum turned to face the hobbits: "The Dead Marshes. Yes, yes that is their name."

"Hmmm," said Frodo. "Thank you, Captain Obvious."

Eventually they continued on, picking their way carefully through the waters. Nevertheless, Sam's foot slipped into a pool of mud, again.

"Gah."

"Careful now," lectured Gollum, "or hobbits go down to join the dead ones and light little candles of their own."

Frodo, who had wandered off from the main tour group, came to a stop by the edge of a particularly murky pool containing an elven warrior. After a rather fruitless staring contest, the hobbit was about to admit defeat when the corpse's eyes flew open, much to nobody's surprise.

Mesmerised, Frodo slammed face-first into the water.

"Um, ow." He promptly sat up, and rubbed at his aching nose. Sam waded over to him.

"Shallow?" he asked.

"Very shallow."

XXX

Later that night, Mordor was having a fireworks display in the distance. Sam was fast asleep throughout this commotion, but Frodo was lying awake with his back to the hobbit – there had been a minor disagreement regarding who would be the big spoon and who would be the little spoon tonight.

In a state of suppressed longing, Frodo cradled the Ring in the palm of his hand, whispering silent nothings whilst stroking its band. There was a rustling noise. He looked up and saw Gollum sitting nearby, stroking the palm of his hand. The hobbit's eyes widened.

"How long have you been sat there listening?"

Gollum smiled.

"Long enough."

Frodo pushed himself up onto his elbows, and stuffed the Ring back inside his shirt. "How much do you want?" He reached into his pocket and flicked through a wad of notes. "Will a hundred cover it?"

Gollum nodded eagerly as he took the money, and slipped it inside his loincloth.

"I am going to buy so much fish!"

Frodo settled down, and studied Gollum intently.

"So, who are you anyways?"

"Mustn't ask us," rambled Gollum, "not its business." He coughed a few times, just for good measure.

Frodo ignored him: "Gandalf told me you were one of the river folk."

"Cold be heart and hand and bone. Cold be travelers far from home."

"Okaaay, random book quote." Frodo got up, and came to sit in front of Gollum. "Gandalf said your life was a sad story."

"Huh, well, that's nice of him."

Frodo was undeterred, however.

"You were not so very different from a hobbit once, were you... Sméagol?"

Gollum looked up with a mixture of awe and fear.

"What did you call me?"

"That was your name once, wasn't it? A long time ago…"

"My name?" Gollum faltered for a moment. "My name... S... Sméagol…"

He had no time to process this startling revelation of his own name, however, since there was a deafening shriek from above at that very moment.

Sam bolted upright in bed.

"I'm awake!"

There was another shriek. Suddenly, Frodo collapsed uselessly to the ground, gripping at the wound in his chest. Sam just rolled his eyes. A Ringwraith swooped down over the marshes, seated upon a snarling Fell Beast. Gollum began to panic.

"Quick!" he cried. "They will see us! They will see us!"

The hobbits made no effort to move.

"How could they possibly see us?" asked a breathless Frodo. "They don't even have eyes."

"Yeah," said Sam, "and what about these elven cloaks anyways? I thought they were meant to hide us from our enemies."

Gollum's face fell.

"Just hide under the damned bush, mkay?"

Rolling their eyes, the two hobbits grudgingly crawled beneath the nearby bramble bush. Sam tapped Gollum on the shoulder.

"So yeah, didn't we already kill these Nazgûl in the last movie or something?"

Gollum turned around.

"Dead? No, you cannot kill them."

"So they're like Dracula then?"

Frodo shook his head: "They sound more like the Terminator to me."

"Then again, Jason has a rather nasty habit of never dying-"

"LOOK, DOES IT REALLY MATTER?" There was another screech from above, and they caught sight of the Nazgûl above them. "Wraiths!" cried Gollum. "Wraiths on wings! They are calling for it. They are calling for the precious!"

"Flying wraiths?" Sam turned to Frodo. "Is it just me, or were they scarier on horses?"

Frodo just scratched his head.

"How on earth can you search for the Ring from that height up? It was frustrating enough when I left it in my other pair of pants and it got lumped in with all of Rivendell's laundry…"

"Yeah," said Sam, "and it didn't help that Elrond walked in when you were standing there, holding up a pair of Arwen's underpants…"

"Guys?" Gollum was busy massaging his temples. "Could we please concentrate on the dire peril at hand, just for once?"

Frodo dug into his pocket, and brought out the Ring.

"Hmm. I have a random urge to put this on."

Sam looked concerned.

"Are you gonna?"

"No, it's cool." Frodo put the Ring away.

Above them, the Nazgûl took one last sweep of the Marshes before heading back to Mordor.

Sam frowned.

"Is it just me, or was this scene extremely anticlimactic?"

Frodo just shrugged. Gollum was continuing on towards the edge of the Marshes.

"Hurry, hobbits. The Black Gate is very close."

With many a protesting groan, the hobbits climbed back to their feet and trudged along behind him.

"But that's what you said an hour ago…"