Chapter One:
Two guys and Girl and a Fellowship

The Fellowship of the Ring was approaching the Falls of Rauros. Near the falls, they pulled up on shore and disembarked from the boats Galadriel had given them. None of them could shake the feeling that something was wrong, but they couldn’t quite figure out what it was.
“We will camp here tonight,” said Gandalf, who had become even more prone to giving orders after his victory with the Balrog. The Fellowship was starting to get annoyed with him.
“I’m starting to get annoyed with him, aren’t you?” Pippin asked Legolas as they unloaded the boats.
“Don’t you complain!” cried Gimli. “You weren’t stuck in a boat with the old git!”
Legolas nodded his agreement with this sentiment. “In fact, I’m not even sure he’s supposed to be here,” he said. “If something could throw him off his guard, I might be able to get rid of him. But it would take a miracle.”
That evening, Aragorn and the Elf were tending a fire and talking.
“I’m glad we’ll have the fire tonight, since I for one won’t be able to sleep,” the Man said.
Legolas agreed. As he put the last log on the fire, he dropped his voice so only Aragorn would hear. “A shadow and a threat have been growing in my mind,” he almost whispered. “Something draws near. I can feel it.”
FOOM!!
Just then, bright green flames leapt up from the fire, throwing the Fellowship off their feet. Among the flames, three children, two boys and a girl, suddenly appeared out of nowhere. This surprised the Fellowship so much they couldn’t speak for several minutes, and simply listened confusedly to the newcomers.
“Where are we?” asked one of the boys as the fire died down. He had red hair and a rather worried expression.
Meanwhile the girl, who was rather pretty in spite of incredibly bushy hair, had caught sight of Aragorn and was starting to drool.
The first boy spoke again. “I think we’ve died and-” he looked around “-well, Hermione’s gone to heaven!”
The other boy, who had black hair and glasses and seemed to be the leader of the group, also looked around and said, “Is it just me, or does it seem like we’re in a reality TV show? Like, ‘When Floo Powder Goes Wrong’ or something.”
“What did you say a TV was, again?” asked the first boy, voicing just one of the many baffled thoughts of the Fellowship’s members. TV shows? Floo Powder? Who were these strange people?
“Forget it, Ron, you wouldn’t understand,” said the black-haired boy exasperatedly. Legolas now noticed that he had a lightning-shaped scar on his forehead.
Hermione, looking at the other Fellowship members, had apparently figured out where they were-what world, at any rate.
“OK, who’s the wise guy who said Middle-Earth-” she drooled at Aragorn (and now Legolas too) for a moment, “-instead of Diagon Alley?”
Ron seemed skeptical of this conclusion. “How do you know we’re in Middle-earth? We could be in a forest in Asia!”
“With this lot?” commented the other boy, and then a thought seemed to occur to him. “You actually remembered where Asia is? That’s way better than you usually do, Ron. I’m impressed!”
“No, you’re Harry,” said Ron, confused.
“I know we’re in Middle-earth because 1) I’m the resident genius, therefore I must be right, 2) I have a woman’s intuition, and 3) These guys are the Fellowship of the Ring …drool…” Hermione said, showing the power if her reasoning and then slipping into fangirl mode.
Gandalf was the first to recover from the initial shock of their appearance. Standing up, he asked, “And you three are.?”
Ron, who hadn’t noticed Gandalf before, made a very obvious show of it.
“Hey, Harry, look! It’s Dumbledore! I thought he had died and we had to get someone else to play him, but he’s been hiding out here all along!” he exclaimed, tugging on Harry’s sleeve and pointing excitedly.
Gandalf hadn’t been expecting this. “Uh, yeah, sure, whatever you say, kid, but tell me who you are or I’ll have to use my fearsome religious symbolism on you!” he said, gaining more confidence as he spoke and finally going into his official “Scary Wizard Impressive Voice”. (Remember, in Bilbo’s house…)
Hermione was scared enough that she actually stopped drooling for a few seconds.
“But Dumbledore, you know who I am!” said Ron, still convinced Gandalf was not Gandalf at all but the headmaster of his school.
Harry, who had a better grasp of the situation, hissed at his friend, “I think you’d better tell him anyway, Ron. He doesn’t look too happy.”
Ron promptly introduced himself. “I’m Ron Weasley, the comic relief.”
Merry and Pippin were momentarily bounced out of their shocked stupor and exclaimed, “Hey, me too!” at the same time Harry muttered under his breath, “Comic yes, relief…”
Harry introduced himself next, as Hermione was busy drooling. “I’m Harry, Harry Potter. But you probably already know my life story.”
“Actually,” Gandalf replied, “I have no idea who you are.”
“But he just told you he’s Harry!” said a confused Ron.
“I mean besides that,” countered Gandalf.
It took a moment for Harry to realize that he wasn’t famous anymore, but when he did-
“Yes! Finally! Someone that doesn’t know everything about me! Yes! Yes! Yes!” he exclaimed, and started doing the ‘happy dance’.
“And that girl over there who can’t decide who to stare at is Hermione,” Ron said, by way of introducing Hermione. She had by now figured out that Frodo was good-looking too and couldn’t decide which hottie to stare at.
“…Drool…”
It was now the Fellowship’s turn for introductions. Since Gandalf was the leader, he went first.
“I’m Gandalf, wizard and leader of the Fellowship.”
“What’s a wizard?” asked Ron, who apparently had forgotten that he already knew the word.
“Um, us?” said Harry, as clarification.
“Oh, yeah!”
“I’m Aragorn, rugged hottie, future king, and backup leader of the Fellowship,” said Aragorn, who sounded like he was reciting his résumé, which he was very proud of.
Hermione was impressed by this. She managed to say something that sounded like “He’s got a lot going for him” through the drool.
Ron asked, “What’s a hottie?”
Aragorn had heard Hermione’s comment and said, to her alone, “And I’m engaged.”
Hermione turned to her friends and asked slyly, “Hey, um, Harry, Ron, you think you could pull off a little more of that ‘bad influence’ stuff for me?”
Legolas went next. “I’m Legolas, the hottest elf in the Fellowship. I kinda have to be, since I’m the only Elf in the Fellowship, but I am definitely the hottest member of the Fellowship.”
Aragorn sent him a Patented Death Glare of Barely Suppressed Hatred. (King-to-be’s usually have a fairly good stock of Patented Death Glares with which to threaten their advisors. When they get advisors, that is.)
Legolas, who didn’t seem to notice, continued, “Oh, yeah, and the Elf Prince of Mirkwood. (I love talking about myself! It makes me feel special!)”
Aragorn, none too thrilled by Legolas’ résumé, said rudely, “Yeah, Ed, we all know you’re special.”
“I thought he said his name was Legolas!” said the (once again) confused Ron. Aragorn gave him a Patented Death Glare of Generic Annoyance.
Meanwhile, Hermione was trying to work out which species she liked better. “Elves are pretty, but Men are tough and rugged. And Hobbits are closer to my size, but they have hairy feet. Decisions, decisions! …drool…”
Gimli was next, with all his Dwarven attention to detail. “I am Gimli Gló¡n’s son of the Dwarves. I am a Dwarf. Neither a hairy newt nor a midget. A Dwarf.”
“Oh, like Professor Flitwick!” exclaimed Ron, proud of having finally been able to figure something out on his own.
“Well, uh, no. Not really,” Harry responded, immensely glad that Gimli had never seen Professor Flitwick.
“We’re not midgets either!” Merry and Pippin chimed in.
“We’re the Indistinguishable Backup Hobbits,” said Pippin.
“Boromir here taught us how to sword fight! Sort of,” added Merry, who had never really gotten the hang of sword fighting. It always seemed like just a lot of pointless clanging of metal.
“I’m Boromir, the corrupted arrogant fish-terd,” said–could you guess?–Boromir.
“What’s a terd? Is that like a poopie?” asked poor slow Ron.
Hermione, her wits returned to her, asked, “What kind of fish, exactly?”
“Largemouth bass,” answered Boromir.
Suddenly, for no reason at all, Pippin yelled, “Look! A vegetable!”
Almost everyone else told him to shut up. Hermione, however, was thinking. “Bass…terd. Bass…terd. There’s a joke here somewhere, but I just can’t get it!”
“What happened to books and cle-ver-ness? And he’s a largemouth bass-terd, not just any bass-terd,” laughed Harry, who had gotten it.
Ron managed to get enough brain juice flowing to make a comment. “Oh, a special poopie!” he exclaimed, which sent everyone into peals of laughter except for Ron and Hermione, who still didn’t get the joke, and Boromir, who got it all the time and was sick of it.
Frodo, recovering from his laughter, introduced himself next. “My name is Frodo Baggins. I’m the Ringbearer and the most important member of this Fellowship. This is Samwise Gamgee, my partner–I-I-I mean my sidekick.”
Sam, blushing, took up the thread. “Since the rest of these guys aren’t nearly as important as us,” he said, “we’re going to abandon them in the middle of the big fight scene that’s coming up.”
Legolas seized his chance before anyone else could react. “Speaking of fighting, Gandalf, weren’t you supposed to die when you were fighting the Balrog?” he asked.
Gandalf took the bait. “I knew I had forgotten something! I’ll just go impale myself on my sword now.” The hobbits tried not to laugh.
At that moment, Aragorn and Gimli exclaimed, “There’s going to be a fight scene?” at the same time Merry, Pippin, and Gandalf asked, “You’re going to abandon us?”
“Wait, I’m over there, committing suicide,” Gandalf corrected himself. “Never mind!”
“Will anyone die?” asked Boromir.
“I will, duh, I’m committing suicide!” Gandalf retorted.
“I meant in the fight scene,” Boromir said annoyedly. (Is that even a word??)
Frodo answered him. “Yeah, a buttload of orcs and, um, you,” he said, growing more uncomfortable as he spoke.
“Oh. Will it hurt?” Boromir asked.
Frodo answered in an impressive voice, “I know not, but my sources tell me that you will greatly resemble…a pincushion!!”
Suddenly J. K. Rowling appeared out of thin air. She made a beeline for Frodo, trying to strangle him, and yelling, “Ack! Evil ellipses!” Sam broke her kneecaps.
“Ack! J. K. Rowling!” Hermione cried. Aragorn knocked her (Rowling) unconscious with the butt of his sword.
“My hero!” exclaimed Hermione, hugging Aragorn. It was fortunate for her he had managed to put his sword into its scabbard first, otherwise he would have hit her over the head too.
“I don’t see why those ellipses are so much more evil than the ones Hermione’s been using to drool over you and Legolas,” Harry said thoughtfully.
“Who knows? I never could understand authors,” Aragorn answered, trying to pry Hermione off himself.
Ron, trying once again to make a contribution, said, “Maybe it’s because they haven’t been drooled on.”
“The authors or the ellipses?” asked Legolas, who had heard the whole conversation.
“Considering we’re talking to Ron,” Harry answered him, “it’s probably both.”
“Hey, what’s that dark thing over there?” Pippin asked. He had seen something approaching over the horizon.
“Nothing, it’s just a wisp of cloud,” Gimli said dismissively. He didn’t think anything could have beaten them down the river.
“On the ground?” Harry asked, squinting. Pippin’s words had everyone looking towards the horizon.
Hermione relaxed her death-grip on Aragorn’s waist for a moment (to try and get a better look) but as soon as he tried to get her off, she held on again as hard as ever.
“Gimli, you idiot, those are orcs!” cried Legolas, rushing to get his things hidden. (Why? You expect me to know why? I just write it, it’s not like I make this stuff up! Jeez!)
“What’s an orcs?” asked Ron, lost once again.
“They’re probably here for that fight scene Frodo was talking about,” Legolas continued.
“Oh boy oh joy, something new to learn about!” Hermione exclaimed, finally letting go of Aragorn to look at the orcs.
“Hermione,” Harry said worriedly, “I think I’ve already learned enough about these guys.”
“What’s that?” Hermione asked.
“They’re big and ugly and they have ominous music and sharp pointy swords,” answered Ron. “Let’s run away!”
“Wow, Ron, you used a three-syllable word!” said Hermione, who didn’t seem to have heard what Ron said.
“What’s a syllable?” asked Ron.
“That’s another one!” Hermione exclaimed. “Harry, I think he’s getting smarter!”
“At least he has a good idea about what to do now,” Harry answered her. “Let’s run away!”
“No, not yet! I have to get all the love out of Boromir that I can before he dies!” Hermione cried.
“But you haven’t even been hitting on him! (Not that you’ve exactly been hitting on anyone else, either.)” said Harry.
“You mean you don’t count?” Hermione asked in a sugary sweet voice.
“There’s Boromir; start lovin’!”