Disclamer: We own no one no matter how much we wish to. shame. you’ll figure out why in upcoming chapters that involve straightjackets! Loves!
Chapter 2: To Bree and beyond
“So let me get this straight, we are going to go to Bree to get the ring back. Right?” Even though Frodo had explained it to him, Sam still did not understand.
“No you fool of a Gamgee! You are going to go to Mordor to get the ring back.” Gandalf hated how stupid some hobbits could be.
“Took!” Frodo had not said a word for a while, so he startled Gandalf.
“Shut up!” Gandalf hated being wrong. “Anyway, I have to go get in a ‘fight’. Actually, it’s the final round of a break dance competition I’m in. Loser falls off the roof. See you later!”
“Good bye!” Frodo said.
“Good luck!” Sam agreed.
“Tally-ho!” Gandalf turned, banged into a tree, and then left the two friends on their own.
“Anyway, where do we go? Bree or Mordor?” Sam asked.
“Ugh!” Frodo shouted in disgust. “Bree! Then wherever Gandalf leads us!”
“Oh. Why didn’t you say that before?”
“Ugh!” Frodo said as he stamped off.
“No need to get in a fit!” Sam called as he ran after Frodo.
J*J*J
“Mr. Frodo! Hear that singing?”
“Yes, I do Sam.” Far off in the distance, Frodo could hear the song ‘I love Rock ‘n Roll’ by Brittany Spears.
“Well, I Don’t.” Frodo looked at Sam with a confused look. In an instant he saw the problem.
“Take your fingers out of you ears Sam! You goose!”
“I’m not a goose, Mr. Frodo. That’s a goose.” Sam answered as he pointed up Frodo looked up to see a white ‘present’ headed right for his face.
“Ugh!” Frodo squealed as it hit him in the eye. He wiped it off with his hand.
“You scream like a girl!” Sam laughed. Frodo wiped the poop off his hand onto Sam’s cloak. “Hey! You’re mean!” Sam said, as he pouted.
“I told you I was not a girl!” Frodo said as he stuck out his tongue.
“You’re right. You’re a wanna-be elf.” Sam replied with a smirk.
“Orc!”
“What’s that?”
“I don’t know.” Frodo shrugged. “Bilbo said it in the kitchen a lot when he was mad. I think it’s some type of French pastry.”
“Oh.” Sam said still looking confused. He doubted that was what the word meant. “Let’s watch the concert the elves are putting on for us.”
“Okay, Mr. Polo cloak!”
“Shut up!”
The elves had come closer, their singing louder. The first song had ended, and they were now serenading the forest with the song ‘When’ by Shania Twain.
“No.” An Elven lord said, as he held up his hand. “Wrong song.”
There was an indistinct moment of muttering. After a moment, the elves decided that the song ‘High ho’ by Disney was acceptable. The lord would nod his head in time to the music, grinning. The ‘band’ was clearly drunk. The two hobbits saw among the unfamiliar, drunken faces, two faces that were often drunk. And they sure weren’t Elven.
“Merry! Pippin! Fancy seeing you here!” Frodo enjoyed seeing his cousins. They always were fun. Sam grunted in disapproval. He did not trust them. Too unpredictable. Sam watched as his master ran over to his cousins, warmly accepting ale.
“Strider!” Pip called.
“Who?” asked Merry.
“Dunno! But I liked the name.”
“Where’d you hear it?” Sam asked.
“On Ebay. He bought a rusty sword from us.”
“Where get you buy a rusty sword?”
“Ebay.”
“Why did you want to sell something expensive? Besides, I love it.”
“Then why did you sell it?”
“Because, Sam, I love it.”
“Pip you- never mind.”
“What? ‘Pip you hottie’? ‘You clever genius’?” Pip asked, grinning. “I am both though. Can hardly keep these Elven ladies off me. Huh, Miss?” He smiled at a near by elf.
“I’m a GUY!” The elf said.
“Sorry.” Pip blushed. “But that’s not the point. I’m still hot.”
“Are not!” Merry argued.
“Are too!”
“Not!”
“Too!” Pip pounced on Merry, throwing both of them to the ground. They rolled on the ground punching each other and pulling hair. Suddenly, they jumped up.
“Hey! The elves are leaving! Wait up!” Merry yelled.
The two ran after the elves that were now singing ‘So Young’ by the Corrs.
*J*J*
Frodo and Sam continued on their path alone. They came to the gate of Bree, and found Merry and Pippin yelling at the gate.
“You (hic) let us (hic) in (hic, hic)!” Pippin yelled, banging on the gate’s door.
“I’m (hic) with Stupid!” Merry yelled, pointing at a tree.
“Uh… Why are you yelling at a wall?” Frodo implored, confused.
“It’s (hic) a (hic) gate. Uh… (hic, hic) Uh… I (hic) forget what (hic) it is (hic) called, but (hic) you’re a (hic) French (hic) pastry?” Merry said.
“Orc?” Sam filled in.
“Huh? (hic) Bless you!”
“Orc- French pastry.”
“Oh.” Merry paused. “Thanks!”
“No problem.”
“Excuse me.” Frodo ignored the two and was knocking on the door. “Anyone there?”
“Shut your blabbering mouths!” a voice from the other side of the gate growled. “I’m coming!” a head full of grizzly neon purple hair appeared through the gate lookout. “Ah! Hobbits! What do you be wanting?”
“Beer!” Pippin hiccupped. “Ale! Tons of it!”
“Accommodations.” Frodo said, scowling at Pip. “the ‘Nancing Pony’.”
“Alrighty. Enter on in.” the gate opened and let the four hobbits in. The ‘men’ walked into Bree. As they were walking down the narrow road, an old, ugly, beer-bellied man stopped in front of them. He his hands on his hips, and was looking down at Merry and Pippin.
“What are you two good-looking ladies doing with those two- uh?”
“French pastries?” Pippin asked. He wanted to sound intelligent for once, but he failed.
“Yeah!”
“We are headed to the ‘Nancing Pony’.” Frodo was mad because he remembered he never got the Malibu string bikini Barbie and Ken dolls he had ordered.
“Oh. Okay! Bye-bye! Love you!” The man walked off.
“Mr. Frodo?” Sam had to ask him something.
“Yes, Sam?” Frodo was looking for the sign to show them the ‘Nancing pony’.
“I don’t think that man was drunk.”
“Neither do I, Sam. Neither do I.”
“Pip! Look! We’re back!” Merry said, excitedly pointing at the sign for the ‘Nancing Pony’.
*J*J*
“Back?” Sam asked later, drinking his third ale at the ‘Nancing Pony’.
“Yep. We came here with our lovely Elven friends. Got extremely drunk. We decided to step out.” Pip explained.
“We got locked out.” Merry continued. “During the Elves can-can dance.”
“Oh,” Frodo pointed to the bar. “That dance?”
Pip and Merry turned around to see what he was talking about. To their surprise they saw the Elves doing the can-can. The two hobbits decided to go up to the bar and join the Elves.
“Mr. Frodo, don’t look now but that guy’s been eyeing you and you’re drink since we got here.” Sam pointed to totally strange, drunken freak pointing at Frodo’s cell phone and muttering to him. “Maybe he thinks you’re cute, Mr. Frodo.” The freak got up and staggered Frodo.
“Hi, Arwen. I haven’t seen you for a while.” The freak hiccupped, hugging Frodo. Frodo could smell the stench of ale on the freak’s breath. A cloaked figure walked over and pulled Freak off.
“Thank you.” Frodo said. “What’s its name?” Indicating Freak.
“I’m Sam Gamgee-no. Pip Took- no. Merry- no. Viggo- sound familiar but no. Orlando- that’s it!” Freak slurred.
“It’s Strider. Just ignore him, he’s always drunk.” The cloaked figure said. Freak tried to go back to hugging Frodo, but the figure whacked him on the head. REALLY HARD!!!
“Ow!” Freak cried as he rubbed his head.
“We’ve noticed.” Sam said, ignoring Freak.
Frodo took a swig of ale and offered it to the figure. “Can we know the name of our rescuer?”
The figure took the ale. It took a sip of ale before answering. “Vannahiril.” He pulled down the hood of his cloak just enough so they could see his face for a second. Or should we say HER ELVEN face.
“You’re a girl!” Sam yelped.
“Shhh!” Vannahiril hissed. “Call me Estel.”
“Okay!” Frodo said.
“And you might want to shut up those hobbity freaks over there.”
“Who Merry and Pippin?”
“I don’t know who they are, but shut them up!” Sam and Frodo looked to see Merry and Pippin bribing Butterbur- the beer/land owner dude for a years worth of ale.
“For the only cell phone that has…” Frodo heard as he ran and tripped over the two, shutting them up by spilling their ales.
“Frodo!” Pippin yelled at him.
Frodo couldn’t hear them. Every moment was an eternity as he fell. The cell phone flew from his pocket. He accidentally pushed the speed dial button for the Barbie Doll hotline, drawing the evil punk rockers to him. Frodo felt a hand grab him, and saw freak grab Pippin. He look up and saw that Freak also had him. Out of the corner he saw Vannahiril grab Sam and Merry. Wow! She sure is strong! He thought.
Vannahiril, Freak a.k.a. ‘Strider’, and the four things being carried a.k.a. ‘hobbits’, went up a flight of stairs. Merry and Pippin were struggling in the arms of Vannahiril and Strider. Sam and Frodo kept still, but Sam was pouting. Let them do what they wanted, Frodo thought, He didn’t care.
The drunken freak (a.k.a. human) and the elf took the hobbits into a room and put the hobbits down. Vannahiril went to the door and closed it. She started to walk away, pulling her cloak down. As she did, Frodo heard her mutter “Hobbits! Why hobbits?”
~J~
“I’m a pervy hobbit fancier!” Strider shouted from a top of a foot high stump.
The six had been hiking in the woods since dawn. After explaining about the rangers, Pip and Merry learned to enjoy riding on Strider’s back.
“Rock on!” Pip shouted.
“Shut up, you freaky, drunken perverts!” Vannahiril growled. She was tired of the perverted drunken perverts. “You all need a lesson. Come on over here so I can wup your asses!”
“Okay.” Merry grinned.
“Ew! Not you!” She squealed. Vannahiril was tired of Strider, Merry, and Pippin. She walked over to Frodo and Sam.
“Do you know how to shut them up?” She asked the two.
“Whack them on the head.” Frodo answered. He truly didn’t know if it would work, but it sure would be funny.
Vannahiril walked over to the three idiots. She hit them upside the head very hard. “Shut up!”
“Okay!” The freaks replied enthusiastically.
The company walked in over all silence for a while- until the stumbled upon a puddle of mud.
“Ale!” Strider shouted, running over to the puddle and started to drink it.
“Uh, are you going to tell him?” Frodo asked Vannahiril.
“No. Are you?”
“Nah. This is too funny.”
The company walked in silence for three hours uninterrupted. Suddenly, Strider staggered over to a bush. Leaning his head over, he threw up.
“Great! We better stop for the night over at the old watchtower at Amon Sul over there. Go on ahead. I have to help Strider. You know, take care of him.” The hobbits gave her a queer kind of look, so she sighed and explained. “Gandalf needed someone to take care of Freak here, so he chose me because I don’t have a life, socially. Now, you four, head along and don’t do anything…uh, stupid! I’ll be up soon.”
The hobbits walked away leaving the two rangers alone. Vannahiril turned towards Strider once the hobbits were mere specks in the night, she faced Strider, hands on hips frustrated, the drunken freak. She tutted silently and walked over to him.
“Why, Aragorn, why? Why can’t you stay in AA? Why?”
Strider opened his mouth to reply but quickly turned his head. All Vannahiril heard was a retching sound and the splatter upon dirt and rock. She came up behind him and placed a hand upon his back. She looked at him with different eyes; she saw a man kneeling on the ground, head cast down, a tear glittering in his eye. She gave him a small hug.
“Come on, let’s clean you up.”
~J~
“They’re in love.” Sam sighed.
“How romantic!” Frodo said.
“Pippin, you’re on my hand!” Merry complained. He moved his hand out from under his cousin.
“Sorry!”
“One day, Rosie and I will be like that.” Sam smiled at the thought.
“Yeah, with twenty children!” Frodo teased.
“Nah, ten.” Sam replied.
“Times ten!” Pippin put in.
“And times ten more!” Merry agreed.
“Add ten!” Frodo added.
“What,” a voice hissed, “are you four doing here?”
The hobbits looked up warily. Vannahiril was looking down at them, grinning. One her right side she was propping up a seriously weak and pale Strider. Even in the cold night air, Vannahiril had taken off her cloak and draped in over Aragorn shoulders. For the first time ever, they saw Vannahiril without her cloak. Her clothes were so much like Striders; black pants and black shirt. Her black pants were held up with a black belt sporting a black hilted sword and other assorted swords and daggers. On her back was a bow and quiver of arrows. On her left wrist something sparkled-a silver cuff bracelet.
“Come, hobbits.” Vannahiril commanded, flipping a long braid of black hair off her shoulder.
Frodo followed silently like the others, pondering what Gandalf had said. He could feel something was missing-but what? Suddenly it hit him (not literally). The letter! There was no letter! He snapped his fingers. He’ll write a letter of complaint to the authors when they reached wherever.
They climbed the hill still in silence. No one talked, all the hobbits were amazed at how kind and loving Vannahiril was towards Strider.
“Are we there yet?” Pip piped up. He was tired.
“Yes.” Vannahiril replied. She gently lay down the weaken ranger down. The ranger tried to get up, but to no prevail. All he could succeed in was sitting up. He slowly pulled for swords out from the inside of his cloak.
“Here.” He said in a raspy voice. “You’ll need these.” At that he fell into a deep slumber.
“Be quiet. He puked himself weak. Let him sleep and let him alone.”
He had barely heard what she said as he entered slumber. He dreamed of Vannahiril’s arms, and compassion. He dreamed of a love between them. But let’s not go to deep into that; this is supposed to be PG-13.