The council of Elrond was in session and there were several people – nine to be exact – who were confused as they all knew they’d be going on a long treacherous journey in which at least two of them would die and one would come back to life.

By ‘accident’ Gandalf had hacked into the author’s computer and read how the story was going to end. He wasn’t exactly happy about parts of it, but at least he was forewarned and as the old saying goes, forewarned is forearmed. Elrond was just plain confused and attempting to stick to the script. Finally Gandalf got tired of all the tedious droning on coming from the rest of the council – not including his eight companions. He nudged Frodo with his elbow – aiming for his ribs but hitting his head by accident.

“Go ahead,” he stage-whispered, “you may as well say it now to save all the tedious droning on and fights that should soon ensue.”

Frodo climbed to his feet, “I’ll take it, I’ll take the Ring to…” he paused to consult with his script. “Gondor?”
Boromir chuckled to himself – little did the minute – alright, he wasn’t quite that bad – Frodo Baggins know, the future ex-heir to the steward of Gondor had been tampering with his script.

“It should be Mordor,” Aragorn corrected him giving a long-suffering sigh.

“And what would a mere giver-of-long-suffering-sighs know of this matter?” Boromir asked.

“That is no mere…” Legolas sprang to his feet and then thought better of it. He shrugged, retaking his seat. “You know the drill.”

Elrond made a valiant attempt to return to the actual script at that point, but failed miserably as the Fellowship quickly formed up using very random lines no-one but they understood.

“Till I die,” Aragorn swore joining Frodo, then hurriedly sat down cursing as her remembered he wasn’t supposed to be the first to join.

Gandalf gave him a hard look, “I will guide you.”

Then Aragorn came in with his line. Followed by a very mysterious, “there had better be a place I can buy fags and a lighter along the way,” from Legolas and an equally mystic:
“My extremely easy to break axe will be with you – even if I can’t make it myself,” from Gimli.

Boromir shrugged, “may as well, not like I have anything better to do.”
At which point the elves pushed three struggling hobbits forward.

“Hey!” Pippin protested, “I can’t die! I’m too young to die!”

Aragorn quickly told him he was in the wrong movie, before Arwen appeared in a three-piece black suit – with a very nice skirt – and admonished that Pippin was ‘never too young to die’ before disappearing to recruit some other person into the elvish MI5.

“So be it,” Elrond finally managed to regain some of his lines, “you shall be…”

“We know, we know!” the Fellowship cut him off, then continued in a mocking mockery of his voice, “the Fellowship of the Ring!”

“What ring?” piped up a previously asleep elf. Everyone put their head in their hands and groaned.

“What?” the elf asked looking around.

“Go back to sleep,” a voice crooned in his ear. Everyone turned to see Nimrodel standing there. Legolas looked particularly shocked.

“Hey, Nim,” he looked at her, “aren’t you supposed to be lost?”

“I am,” she replied appraising him professionally, “That’s why I stopped by here to ask for directions.” She appraised him again

“You ain’t so bad yourself,” Legolas replied in a very un-Princely fashion. With that they promptly disappeared in the general direction of their rooms. After that the council rapidly broke apart and well…the Fellowship decided they’d leave the next day.