Write Your Own LOTR - TTT - Book III

[daughter_of_kings]

Far off across the plains of Rohan, the wind continued to blow, and gradually the smell of sweet and sour Orc dissipated. In the highest room of the tallest tower... er, the Golden Hall of Meduseld, Eowyn, the Snow-White Lady of Rohan finally unwrinkled her nose and returned to her second-favorite pastime: staring off into the distance as if watching for someone. Softly, she began to sing...

Some day my prince will come...

[agape4rivendell]

‘Someday my prince will come….’

He retched woefully. “If once more I hear that willowy, weedy, woe-be-gone, voice wail that leitmotif – I think I will kill her. Indeed, though she be your sister, I will kill her.

“I will send toads into the tower toting terror. She will die of warts.

“I will send snakes - snacking, snorting, sneezing, snaffling, snapping, snorting…”

“OH SHUT UP, Éothain!” Éomund screeched. “You are as bad as she is!”

*The Marshal shivered*

“Béma save me!” he snorted as he snickered, whilst hoisting his horse upon his shoulders and heading homeward.

[Dínelleth]

A frustrated Legolas fired another arrow which easily brought down another Uruk. Then he sighed. "This is like shooting fish in a barrel!" he muttered to himself as he brought down still another. "Where is the challenge in this? I know my fans are wanting me to do something spectacular but how can I when the script writer's have these clowns making such easy targets of themselves!"

Suddenly the wind changed and soon Legolas was gagging on the smell of sweet and sour Orc being cooked up. So he followed it back to its source much to his stomach's dismay and soon he came upon the alway aromatic Aragorn just finishing what looked like to be his afternoon tea. "You sure do have the knack for raising a stink where ever you go," Legolas said grumpily while he found a place upwind of the Ranger to stand. Now he really wasn't upset at Aragorn but just taking his frustration out on him.

[Primula]

Outside the door to the room that held the highest window in the tallest tower in Meduseld, Grima Wormtongue's wormy little tongue did a samba along his lips, dancing to the tune.

"Oh, but my darling," he muttered, "Your prince is already here... heh heh heh...."

[Laiquendi]

With a final lick of his fingertips, Aragorn recycled his rubbish and made himself ready for their next adventure. Noticing the swift and sullen appearance of their elf companion, he began to grasp a weighty conclusion.

"Legolas, old boy, I think we have misplaced a Dwarf and several small furry gooseberries, mmm... I mean pot-plants, erh, puppets, erh, Hobbits."

Before slowly surveying the bloodied field of Uruk bodies, he came to a second, inspired, conclusion.

"Legolas, old chap, I think we have beaten off those delicious, I mean, fruity, erh, fearsome Orc-like fellows."

Upon discovering (the now deceased) Boromir and vaguely recalling something about a quest, search, journey-type expedition, Aragorn came to a third, brilliant, deduction.

"Legolas, old scrubber, I think we may have waylaid Fido and the Pudding of Doom, err, Freda and the Danish Pastry of Disaster, mmm, Frodo and his magical mystery musical tour!!"

Now stumped by the myriad possibilities strewn before him, Aragorn looked at the decidedly un-bothered elf and bespoke to no-one in particular.

"Which one do you think we should go after first?"

[Erech the undead]

---
Through the haze of barbecued flesh, the dwarf limped toward the Gondorians body. The death weighed heavily on him. With this loss, the dwarf would now take his place as the least popular member of the fellowship. This would only serve to increase the difficulty he faced in trying to impress the Elf. The bloody skirmish had done nothing to help. His stubby feet were red and swollen from running around in low heels after what had begun as a fairly nice afternoon, floating down the Anduin in the little black tunic he recieved from Celeborn, just hours before. Still, he had yet to manage a single nod from the otherwise sharp eyed Elf. Now, with the prospect of a long overland trek looming directly ahead, he knew he would have to forego the corset he had bartered for in Rivendell. The heels would also hinder any lengthy jaunt they would undertake. His ongoing efforts to impress the Elf would be forestalled, at least for the time being. No matter, he mused. The day would come when he would unveil his secret weapon: a vintage hawaiian shirt, which,
when worn open, would reveal the heirloom mithril nipple rings he wore for special occassions, or for that special someone. He painfully triaged his wardrobe and other gear at the waters edge, to prepare for the arduous pursuit. Unbeknownst to his remaining companions, he had tucked his favorite stillettos under Boromir's shield before they sent him over the falls, to his next wardrobe session for an upcoming flashback, in the hope that one of the wardrobe interns would find them, and place them back in inventory. It wasn't easy being Gimli. There really weren't any dwarf women around, ever, really...

[Dínelleth]

While Legolas listened to Aragorn's incoherent babbling he wondered yet again how this man was ever going to be a King. Then he sighed and pulled out his copy of the script when Aragorn asked him what they should do next. And after flipping to the correct page he said "According to this we will need the misplaced Dwarf and go in search of the Hobbits thus leaving Frodo and Sam on their own." Then Legolas noticed a note to him from Arwen that had been penned in the margin and he groaned in disbelief. "Give me a break! Now she wants me to be Aragorn's babysitter for the remainder of this journey!" he muttered under his breath to himself while he put his script away. "I can see who will be wearing the pants in that family if those two ever do get married!"

[Laiquendi]

Now feeling slightly less bemused after Legolas’ curt explanation, Aragorn re-adjusted his trousers and glazed over the pink stitching sewn into the seam which stated “Property of Arwen”.

Then, sniffing the air delicately, he turned to his weary companions and said, “Unless my nostrils deceive me, of which I very much doubt, I feel that our dear departed Gondorian pincushion is causing a bit of a stink. Mayhaps we should deal with him first…”

Walking back to their deceased brethren, Aragorn nudged the body slightly with the toe of his muddy shoe then turned to look at the large lake spread out before them. As if coming to an astounding conclusion, a little lightbulb flickered behind those mysterious eyes and he said “Not to fear! I have the perfect answer! Let’s just leave him in one of those boats, stick a few stamps on the outside and post him off home! He’ll be back in no time with these currents. And there’s the added bonus of no lengthy digging!”

With his mind made up, Aragorn tried to lift the dead weight, struggled, strained, then gave up. Reaching for a large broken branch nearby, he nuzzled it under Boromir’s body and began applying pressure to the other end. Just as he thought he needed more leverage, the branch gave way and the body started to roll downhill towards the lake.

Turning to his exasperated friends he said, “Unless of course you had another idea?”

[DoctorGamgee]

Denny looked over to Arthur and mumbled . . .

"You may want to plug the fan in, Art. This is the 32nd batch of deepfried Mushrooms and 13th pitcher of Hot Cocoa and Marshmallows. Either Marty Feldman better show up with some Dristan to open up the noses of the hobbits, or we may as well order some tortillas and change this place to a Taco Bell."

As Arthur followed the orders, a stench so powerful that nothing the orcs were cooking could possibly cut through it blasted in from outside. When the orcs awoke, they were surprised to find themselves wearing Sombreros and Ponchos, and noticed a small man on a bicycle rolling down the hill laughing.

Thus, Denny Tario and Arthur Treacher were victims of the Editing department, their names only appeared in the DVD "Charter Members" section of the movie, their SAG points were removed, and their most excellent roles wound up on the cutting room floor.

[Erech the undead]

---
Seeing the body of the Gondorian spinning wildly toward the lower slope, the dwarf was struck by an impulse he hadn't felt since his youthful years, wherein young dwarves played furiously at their favorite game, King of the Mithril Hill. Granted, it wasn't really Mithril, just a large scrap pile of ordinary silver, ill regarded by dwarves of any real status. So the young dwarves were free to gleefully toss each other off the Hill, to see which of them would be King of the Hill, however briefly. Hence, it is also revealed that this was the true origin of the peculiar pastime known
as ''dwarf tossing.'' This primal childhood urge hit the dwarf like a bolt, wherein he flipped himself most impressively into the air, and began his own rapid descent in pursuit of the Gondorian. ''Ouch, ough, ough, oo, ough'', he moaned as he was battered by rocks and branches, which, given his size, didn't slow him down one bit. He came to a halt some 30 paces shy of the body of the slain Gondorian. Aragorn and Legolas raced to secure the fallen Prince's body, ignoring Gimli altogether. With all his bumps and bruises, he had again failed in his ongoing attempts to impress the Elf. This was his inner turmoil, for he could not look upon his sublime companion, without being reminded of the gold tressed beauty of Celeborn and Galadrial. He would once again face the harsh reminder that he was, indeed, a stubby little gnome...the pain, the pain...

[Laiquendi]

With his rapidly descending Dwarf companion seemingly in agreement, Aragorn raced downhill after his tumbling comrades.

"Come on Legolas! You don't want to miss out on all the fun! Last one to the shoreline has to look for the missing Hobbits!" He shouted back to the grumbling Elf with glee.

[Dínelleth]

When the now present Gimli decided to flip himself down the hill after the rolling Boromir which Aragorn had sent into motion in order to save them from having to carry his body down to the lake shore Legolas could only stare in disbelief at all of this. "Am I the only sane one left of the Fellowship?" he wondered to himself while a gleeful Aragorn urged him to come so he wouldn't miss out on all the fun. "What fun? So far this journey has been anything but that. And now that I've lost my hair brush goodness knows how I will keep from looking unruffled!" he muttered to himself before he began to decend the hillside doing so in his usual graceful and perfectly balanced manner while he watched as Gimli rolled not unlike a ball all the way to the bottom during which time he had encountered rocks and branches. "Now that had to hurt," Legolas said outloud to no one in particular once the dwarf had reached the bottom. But Legolas didn't go over to him. Instead he went and stood by Aragorn like any good babysitter would. "Okay so you got Boromir down the hill. Now what?" he asked while he cringed inside for knowing the Ranger it would no doubt entail something strange...

[Laiquendi]

Trailing slowly behind the pinball Dwarf, and amazed at the speed of Legolas, Aragorn made a mental note to never bet against an Elf.... unless of course it was Círdan, in which case it was easy money.

Patting down the mighty dustcloud that had risen on their descent, Aragorn picked up the arms of their deceased Gondorian and dragged him towards the nearby boats. With a grunt and a swift kick, Boromir tumbled into the bowels of the craft while Aragorn tried to re-arrange the position to make him look slightly more dignified.

Satisified with what he could get, Aragorn retrieved a sheet of paper from Legolas's script and scribbled some figures on the reverse then stuck it to the outside of the boat.

Groaning as he noticed the sign now said:

To: Gondor
c/o Danithor

Aragorn turned to his friends and asked: "Anyone want to say a few words before we give old Boris here the heave-ho?"

[Dínelleth]

Leoglas winced when Aragorn took a sheet of paper from his copy of the script and then proceeded to spell Denethor wrong on the sign he was making. But he refrained from saying anything since he knew it would be useless. However when Aragorn asked if anyone wanted to say a few words before they gave Boromir the heave-ho Legolas quickly raised his hand. Then he jumped up onto a large boulder and sang the following in perfect pitch:

"The perils of the road we’ve seen, ‘neath Sun and Moon and Star.
It’s anyone’s guess how on earth we’ve lived to get this far!
It probably comes as no surprise our Fellowship is broke.
Let us send off poor Boromir and track down our Little Folk!"

(Song provided by our wonderful Lothithil. )

[Laiquendi]

Inspired by Legolas' ditty, Aragorn cleared his husky throat and began to sing:

Boris was a helpful fella,
Though his teeth did chatter
And his boots were yella.
Sailing on the deep blue sea,
Over the waterfall
With a yelp of glee.
Sailing home to your family,
A crumbling tower
And an old dead tree.

Honour, valour, truth and wisdom,
Yours to command
And ours to listen.
I grieve for you, soldier blue,
With your shirt so red
They pounced on you.
We travelled far, we travelled long,
And in all our thoughts
You can do no wrong.

Listen to the prayers of one,
May you look back now
On all our fun.
Listen to the prayers of two,
Of one so mighty
There are so few.
Listen to our prayers times three,
For now my friend,
May it set you free.

A loyal man, and one so dear,
There are no more
Like our Boromir.

As a tired animal started to squeal in the distance (or perhaps it was bagpipes, who can tell?), Aragorn pushed off Boromir's casket/boat while a single tear fell from his eye.