Part 7: Ellie and Mannie do Moria *************************
In the big house on the hill in the Undying Lands ...
"You know, Ellie, this meddling can be fun."
"I know," Elbereth said, smiling at her husband of a few trillion eons. "Why do you think I do it?"
"Because you're a perverse bitch?" he asked, deep admiration shining in his non-human eyes.
"Bingo!"
He turned and looked into her mirror. "Let's change this shall we? Get rid of the orcs and add our man, Tom ..."
**********In the Mines of Moria (tm) ...
"HOOTS, MON! THERE BE HAGGIS HERE!" Gimli cried, drawing up his ax.
Then the orcs came.
Then they went.
Everyone blinked. Especially Gollum. Who came early because he heard there would be flies.
"What be goin' on in 'ere?"
A strange voice followed by a stranger figure entered the picture.
"Tom Bombadil! What are you doing in the Mines of Moria (tm)?" Gandalf roared, surprised.
"THERE BE HAGGIS HERE!" Tom responded, feeling up the backside of Pippin's calf, like the perverted, twisted apparition that he was.
"You like haggis too?" Gimli asked, smiling in deep love with the gap-toothed reject from a Deliverance movie.
"No. I just ended up here because the gods have stepped in."
"The Gods! The Valar! They want us to succeed?"
Boromir asked, clutching his sword in his big, big hands.
"No. They're just bored." Tom grinned. "You haven't seen my old lady around here, have you. Golden- something or other I think it is. It's really hard being older than Treebeard. I have to tell you, I forget stuff. Like most of the last two ages."
"That's okay," Aragorn assured him. "I would love to join you."
"Where?" Bombadil asked, his senile dementia and hillbilly cluelessness taking over where his brain used to be.
"We have to destroy a Ring of Power, Tom. Can you help us?" Legolas asked.
"No, but I wouldn't mind shagging you, blondie. You are one really built babe. For a boy."
Legolas preened and blushed every *just so* and everyone around him sharpened their daggers. Metaphorically.
"I'm spoken for but thanks."
"Yeah? Good for you. So ... are you getting any? The old lady has been gone so long the billy goats are starting to look good."
"Goats?" -hobbit/maiar hybrid boy-lets getting tips for getting through puberty. When it comes.
"We don't have time for this. We have to go," Gandalf said. "We have to crawl through these tunnels for four days, stay ahead of Gollum, poop in the dark corners of the world, sleep on stone, eat cracked corn and drink our own pee, have furtive sex when we can, preferably not with my boys, at least until their infections clear up, and then I have to fall into the abyss after roasting my weinie against the Balrog."
"Balrog?" -everyone.
/... INFECTIONS? .../ -only the pervie hobbit fanciers.
/... drink our own pee! ... great! .../ -Gimli
"See ya," Gandalf said, turning and leaving the area, group in tow.
They walked on for days and days, stopping when they had to. Sex slowed down, everyone smelled too bad, and so they merely sat and made longing stares and big eyes at each other which would have been neat if it hadn't been pitch dark most of the time and impossible to see anything.
insert intake of air here -narrator
By the time they reached the crypt of Gimli's baleful, battered and battened-down relative, Balin (or something) they were ready to bit the head off of bats. It is rumored that Merry did.
"Ptooie!"
"MERRY! IS THAT YOU AGAIN!" -Gandalf
"NO, DAD ... IT'S PIPPIN!" -Merry
"LIAR!" -Pippin
"LIAR, LIAR, PANTS ON FIRE
!" -Merry
"SHAME, SHAME, WE KNOW YOUR NAME!" -Pippin
"SHUT THE FUCK UP!" -Boromir
huge sulk ensues
"Well, this is the place where we lose our marbles and things go downhill," Gandalf said.
"How do you know? Is it some kind of maiar or elf magic that lets you know about things in advance?" Boromir asked, keenly interested.
"No," Gandalf said, sighing. "I bought the comic."
"Oh." Boromir sighed. He would never understand the ways of Istari. They were just too inscrutable.
"Here's what I want you to do. We'll fight it out here and Boromir gets the best line," Gandalf began. "Then we run like hell for the bridge of Khazad-Dum and teeter there for a while. Then a balrog will come, Legolas will look scared and *hot* at the same time, I will fight him, the balrog that is, and win immortality and the same kind of kamikaze danger chicks that chase after Glorfindel," he said, turning to his kids. "Whatever you do, don't tell your mother."
They shook their head in unison.
/... fat chance .../ -four hobbit/maiar boy-lets.
"Then, I will fall in and die and come back in better threads. All you have to do is get out, fall on the ground and cry a lot and then Aragorn, you get to be the head cheese and kick everyone around."
"Why not me? My old man is the Steward King of Gondor." Boromir shot daggers at Aragorn even as he wanted him, lust burning in his gut like acid indigestion. Considering they only had moldy lembas and cave crickets to eat for three days that was a real possibility. At least his own pee agreed with him.
"You aren't going to be the King of Gondor. You will bite it after the Argonaths. Get over it, *Boromir*," Gandalf said, spitting put his venom and his upper plate at the same time.
"Okay," Boromir replied congenially as he stepped on Gandalf's teeth 'accidentally'.
"Wew ... whadda heww?" Gandalf said, picking up his crushed upper plate.
"Dad said, 'well ... what the hell?'," Frodo said, ever helpful.
His father slapped him on the back of his head. "Shudda fuww umph!"
Frodo rubbed his head and sulked. /... cry over you, *old man*? ... fat chance .../
They moved on, fought like cats in heat, bagged *A Cave Troll*! there. you wanted to say it too and ran away, chased by ten million orc cockroaches and a big blistering balrog.
It all came to pass. Legolas fell into fear, only to be rescued by nursing a while on Aragorn's breast. Gimli nearly had a miscarriage. Frodo wept and cried and mourned his Dad. For two seconds, before whipping out a ciggie and having a Guinness in his memory. If they had any.
Guinness that is.
Merry and Pippin argued over who would have the gold out of their Dad's upper plate. Boromir put his hand down Frodo's pants as he carried him off to safety. Frodo fell in love with him instead, leaving long-time lover Aragorn, son of Arathorn and a bunch of other dead guys without a decent blow job for three daze until he found his center once more and came crawling back.
Mourning a father isn't easy.
Let's see. Legolas wandered around in a haze and then got it together because he was ***GOING TO SEE THE BIG TREES***! And his former, current and ever to be lover, Haldir and the entire guard of Lothlorien. That doesn't even count the sort-of incest with Celeborn and the strip poker on Friday nights with the exile community from Mirkwood, the Macaroni Boys and Sue.
***Manwe: "You made that up."
Elbereth: "I didn't. The idiot writing this did."
Manwe: "Ah. I thought so. You turn a better phrase than that."
E: "You think so?"
M: "Sure, baby."
E: "Let's have sex. It's been thirty quazillion years."
M: "After the game."
E and kitchen utensil: "BONG!"
Middle Earth ...
They lay on solid rocks, sobbing. With relief. That they were rid of the old bastard for a while. Now they could fornicate, drink, smoke, and generally raise hell. That is, if Mom didn't show up. Bilbo was a bigger fudd than their dad.
Sigh.
It isn't easy being pretty, Frodo said to himself.
/... you can say *that* again, you little tart .../ -Legolas, listening in.
Tbc c2010