A/N: If you like this story, you'll LOVE mo and rockey's story. She actually used me as an example…YAY! An excellent Sue-bashing parody is "Sue Me", by mo and rockey. Go check it out. That's a suggestion, though.

And go look at "Jennifer Smith: The New Girl In Town", by crazytubesockmonkee. That's my daughter, Alex's fiction. It's actually pretty good, even though she only has one chapter up right now. And that, dear readers, is an order. Be nice to my daughter! J

"They never show this in the movies," Melody grumbled as she scooted down into the valley on her butt. Sure, they showed the Fellowship sitting around picking their noses while Gandalf tried to hack into Moria, but getting into that particular valley was harder than she had thought. They had been hiking all day, and now the moon was well overhead, and they still hadn't eaten anything. The most vocal member of the Authors was Daphne, who had been complaining loudly and not very subtly suggesting they stop for a moment, have something to eat, and press on in the morning. Melody scooted down a few more inches. The only way into the valley was a tiny, winding path that crept along the side until it dropped off, for no reason whatsoever, into a steep slide of rubble and dirt. Legolas, naturally, had merely jumped down in a few long bounds, and Aragorn didn't seem to have any trouble either. Michael, Melody saw, was in a similar predicament, although he was mostly hampered by that stupid redheaded Sue, whatever her unpronounceable name was. The Sue was breathing down his neck, cooing something into his ear. He waved her off disgustedly. This action sent a little shiver of warmth into Melody's stomach.

Daphne was swearing like a sailor under her breath, muttering about starved authors, wasting away, and generally how hungry she was. Daphne became very irritable if she didn't eat regularly, as you might have guessed. Behind her, Madison was practically in tears - again - because Adavis was criticizing her crawling method. Adavis hadn't had a problem; Shonji had bounded down the rocky slope easily, powerful muscles flexing and rippling as he sat contentedly at the foot of the slope. Now he was washing his whiskers with traditional feline cleanliness, pausing every so often to rub a damp paw down his sleek purple coat. Daphne snarled to herself. "Adavis, shut up," she hissed. "Just shut up. If you want Madison to slide down differently, get your pretty butt out here and demonstrate."

Adavis laughed prettily. "Dear Daphne, there is a danger of ripping my dress if I try such obscenities. So I shall stay here and coach little Madison on her crawling techniques. Madison darling, try to put more weight on your hands."

"I can't," Madison sniffled. "It hurts. And I ache. And these - stupid - rocks are cutting into my - palms!" she jounced and rolled the last few feet until she was sitting at the bottom of the slope. She got to her feet, dusting herself off, and patted Shonji absently on the muzzle. The purple tiger growled appreciatively.

Daphne rolled to a stop, and then lay there for a few seconds. Tolkien was off in the distance, smoking a pipe and discussing something with Gandalf in a low, serious tone. Michael was helping Melody down the slope - for a second, she felt a little pang. They were really cute together. Her thoughts flew like startled birds when she heard a deep, familiar voice off to her left. "Lady Daphne, do you require assistance?" To her surprise, Boromir was offering her a hand up. Her eyebrows raised, but she accepted his hand. His grip was hard and his calluses rasped over her small hands. To the best of her knowledge, this was the first time he had spoken to her.

"Thanks," she said, dusting herself off. Prickled goosebumps had risen on her arms when he brought her to her feet. She patted him on the shoulder and went over to see Sam about getting some of those tasty sausages. Boromir watched her go, brow furrowing, and then turned to Aragorn. Melody dusted off her hands and swore, very loudly and very explicitly, in front of Merry and Pippin, who quaked.

"That is the very last time I climb down a rocky slope in Middle Earth," Melody said sharply. "Michael, lets write a story about how every road we walk on is flat."

The Sues were talking in low, conspiratorial whispers, but stopped when Isabella approached them. "Evening," the sallow-skinned girl said. "I just wanted to see something for a moment." The Sues looked at her quizzically as Isabella studied them, honing in on their dirty clothes and slightly mussed hair. She inclined her head slightly. "Thank you, that's all I wanted to know."

Isabella marched over to the Authors, all of whom were sitting around in a rough semi-circle and nursing their bruised bodies and skinned hands. "We're making progress," she said triumphantly, a tilted smile twitching her lips confidently. Daphne quirked an eyebrow. "They had to climb down the slope as well," Isabella said, as though it should be obvious. "Quick, how far along are you in your stories?"

Madison reported that she had reached the journey to Weathertop, Michael said he had just begun the battle with the Ringwraiths, and Daphne muttered that she was still at Bree. Melody shrugged. "I'm at the Council of Elrond," she said idly. They all gawped at her. "What? I'm a fast writer."

"My hand gets hurt too easily," Daphne said with a sigh. "I hate writing by hand. But Isabella, what does it matter?"

Isabella leaned forward and spoke in a hushed voice. "Look at them. They're weakening. The Sues aren't as strong. They had to get dirty, they had to sweat, they had to bruise. They're no longer perfection. Well, all except for Adavis."

"That's great," Michael said, "'Cept for one thing. Adavis is the one we're supposed to be killin', right? Who cares if some stupid Sues get a little sweaty? Adavis ain't sweatin'. We need to concentrate on her first."

"You're only as strong as your weakest link." Isabella retorted. (Unconsciously, all their eyes flicked to Madison for a brief instant). "Hone in on the other Sues, write them out of the story first. And then we concentrate on Adavis."

"All right, all right," Daphne said. "That's great. It's working. We're amazing. Now can we get something to eat?" She massaged her stomach and her brows furrowed.

"I do believe you ought to feed the muses," a familiar British voice said behind them, sparked with a note of amusement. "As I think you recall, we're going to be here for a while. Sam is frying some sausages, and they should be ready in a bit."

"Awesome," Daphne breathed, flopping on her back. Tolkien eyed her with amusement, and then flicked his fingers.

"Let me see your books," he ordered, and Madison dug through her bag and withdrew the five slender books. They had to write small, otherwise they would run out of paper before they reached Lothlorien. Originally, they had planned to compile everything in one large book, but when they were all writing their own story, it was a good deal harder. Tolkien pursued the texts cryptically, running a crooked finger down Daphne's uneven lines, Madison's curling cursive, Melody's typewriter-style printing, Michael's unruly scrawl, and Isabella's rounded lettering. A smile curved his mouth. "Excellent. Superb, in fact. Not the slightest contradiction."

The Authors all breathed a sigh of relief as they took back their books. Being approved by Tolkien, one of the greatest literary masters, was one of the highest praises they could get. They probably would have asked him what he thought about their individual books, but there was a distant call from Sam, announcing that dinner was ready. Daphne grabbed her book and bolted to the delicious frying sausages before any of them could stir a muscle. They laughed. "Don't get between Daphne and a hot meal," Melody laughed. Together, the Authors gathered around the small, guttering fire. Madison blushed to the roots of her frizzy blonde-brown hair when Legolas offhandedly gave her a plate of sausages. Bewildered, the elf continued his conversation with Aragorn, leaving Madison with her sausages and her muted fangirly squeals.

Isabella was perhaps the only person who noticed the pairings so far. His sharp, cutting blue eyes missed nothing - she knew Aragorn missed Arwen enough to distract him for several hours at a time, she knew that Legolas's mother had died, and she knew that Boromir wanted to start a family when he got back to Gondor. All she had to do was listen and wait, watch and deduce. It was silly, really; they didn't appear to see her, considering she was only a child, and they didn't seem to think she could interpret what they were talking about. By herself, Isabella was slowly teaching Elvish to herself, trying to fumble her way around the elegant language. And because of her sharp, caustic idealisms and uncanny deductions, she saw the beginnings of Madison's crush on Legolas, knew that Michael liked Melody and was denying it, and there might have been a flicker of a spark between Daphne and Boromir when he helped her up today. There was enough material here to keep her interested for several hours, and Isabella found a quiet place to sit and think. Thinking was what she did best, and she pondered their situation as the rest of the Authors interacted with the Fellowship. Now, watching them from a slight distance, it was easier to see - Boromir's hand connected with Daphne's twice when they reached for more sausages, and the Gondorian man was the only one affected by these chance encounters. Daphne seemed blissfully unaware. Michael and Melody's knees were touching, and within five minutes of the meal he had his arm casually resting across her shoulders. Melody allowed it to remain there, signaling her own affections. Isabella laughed quietly.

Gandalf and the Hobbits, meanwhile, were trying to force the door into existence. Isabella reined in the temptation to just say the password, and watch their surprise, but she contented herself with practicing her Elvish. Merry and Pippin soon became bored with watching Gandalf mutter spells, and began throwing rocks into the water. Ripples stroked the surface of the greasy lake which dominated the valley, some of their rocks coming dangerously near a soggy tree, twisted, rotting branches clawing at the sky. Again, Isabella turned off her temptation by muttering more Elvish to herself, trying to master the language. She was trying to pronounce arauka correctly when she heard a jubilant cry from the doorway.

"We found it!" Daphne said, cheerful now that she had eaten. A beautiful arched doorway was shimmering between the cleft of two twisted trees. A cloudy curtain had been pulled from the sky, and the full moon shot down fingers of silvery moonlight which illuminated the graceful white doorway. Scrolling symbols and iridescent runes sprinkled the arches of the door, the stunning white pillars carved into the rock. Isabella got to her feet and came over, seeing four similar expressions of frustration as Gandalf began mumbling spells. "Pity we can't help," Daphne added in an undertone.

"You are not to say the password," Tolkien reminded them curtly. "Let the story play out." The Authors shuffled their feet miserably, twiddling their thumbs as they waited for Gandalf to hit upon the right password.

09

It took roughly two hours for Gandalf to come even remotely near the password, and by then Daphne was asleep. Melody was curled, catlike, near Adavis, and Michael was leaning against a rock, trying to look cool while sleeping. The only person awake was Madison, who was bored silly and wished for something interesting to happen. Isabella twitched in her sleep, snoring lightly. Madison smiled. Who knew the little snotty girl could snore? She scuffed her feet against the rocky ground and watched interestedly as Boromir draped his outer cloak over Daphne. The spiky-haired blonde didn't wake, but instead turned over and snuggled underneath it, wrapping herself in the thick cloak. Madison pondered this. Boromir was going to die. If they fell in love, Daphne would be sad. That would suck. This was the extent of Madison's romantic thoughts, because something far more interesting happened.

"What's the Elvish word for friend?" Frodo asked, face lighting up. Gandalf looked at him curiously, and then Tolkien, Legolas, and Gandalf all answered simultaneously.

"Mellon," they answered. There was a groaning of stone, granite scraping against rock, the knuckles cracking of some enormous giant, and a slab moved aside, the glowing doorway sliding slowly, opening a black chasm in the insurmountable wall. There were various murmurs of delight, and in the hubbub Quilemna "accidentally" kicked Daphne roughly in the head. Daphne shot awake with a yowl, springing to her feet and preparing herself for another cat fight. Luckily, Michael got in the way.

"Yo, Quilemna, c'mon, let's go," he said, hurrying her away from the furious Daphne. The redhead preened and melded into his arms, sticking like glue, and Michael made a face at her. Daphne sighed and plucked at the fur-trimmed cape, wondering how Boromir had managed to throw his cloak over her. Shrugging, she folded it and handed it back to him, paying him very little attention as she waited for The Watcher.

The ripples where Merry and Pippin had thrown the rocks had not ceased - they increased, splashing lightly against the shores. The Fellowship filed inside the mines, cramped in the small entryway, and the stench hit them. Madison lost her dinner right then and there, falling to her knees as the overwhelming smell of death and decay rose in their throats. The Authors were all in similar states of disgust, and the Fellowship was backing out, Boromir's voice ringing over them. "This isn't a mine! This is a tomb! Out, everyone out!" Daphne felt herself pushed from behind by a frightened Ethwein, who promptly trampled the blonde as they rushed out the door. Spitting mad, Daphne felt herself hauled to her feet and shoved out the door by someone behind her.

Frodo screamed to the stars above as a powerful, slimy tentacle clenched his ankle and dragged him into the water. Boromir and Aragorn wasted no time, swords flashing and slicing through the water. The thick tentacle was severed, and Frodo scrambled from the water, but not before a dozen more shot out in all directions. Daphne felt the ghost of a tentacle snaking around her waist and she leapt backwards. Once more, Frodo was seized, this time dragged through the icy cold, stagnant depths, out of the Fellowship's reach. A gigantic, blind snout emerged, maw gaping wide, sightless white eyes rolling frantically in its frenzy, black teeth razor sharp. Frodo was held aloft, high above the mouth, prepared to be dropped into the rows of rotted black fangs. Melody shrieked for everything good and blessed as she was plunged beneath the waves, scrambling furiously with the tentacle as slippery bubbles scurried to the surface of the water. Aragorn and Boromir were hacking and plunging, Legolas's bow was firing, but Frodo was still being dangled above the mouth.

Then the Sues jumped into the fray, weapons unearthing from scabbards and sheaths. The balance rapidly shifted, and Frodo was hauled, dripping, onto the bank, his face pale and cold, chest hardly stirring. But Melody was nowhere to be seen. Michael hardly waited to strip off his leather jacket - he threw himself into the water with the splashing Watcher, furiously intent on finding his friend. He dove through the waters, and caught a glimpse of long blonde hair. Her struggles were slowing, and her muscles were relaxing. She was hardly aware when Michael wrenched her from The Watcher's grip and brought her on the banks.

There was a hot mouth on hers when Melody awoke, and the first thing she saw was Michael's worried face. Someone was slapping her cheeks sharply, breathing air into her lungs. She rolled over and coughed up a good foot of water from her lungs, yellowed water dripping from her lips as she swore. She realized she was inside Moria, and there was absolutely no light except an odd, bluish crystal that was clamped in Gandalf's staff. She got to her feet slowly, leaning against the wall for support. Sound hit her: "-okay?"

"What?" she mumbled, dragging a sleeve across her mouth. Michael supported her slightly, pulling her away from the wall.

"I said, are you okay?" he repeated.

"Just peachy," she spat, the combed her wet blonde hair from her eyes. She noticed they were all standing stock still, Madison close to Legolas's comforting presence, waiting for her to say something. "Well?" she snapped impatiently. "Let's get going!"