The curtains of darkness parted for a moment, as two figures strolled hand and hand past gleaming mithril veins. Now and then they’d stop, and embrace each other.
“Oh, darling,” Stella whispered.
“Stella, you are more dear to me than even the bloodiest kill. But we can’t keep meeting like this.”
“Oh, Snikbog, Snikbog, wherefore art thou, Snikbog?”
“I was named that way. And why are you speaking like that?”
“An uncontrollable urge. I don’t know why.”
“Lady, by yonder blessed mithril I vow, that tips with silver all these dark cave walls–“
“O, swear not by the mithril, th’ forgable mithril that is pounded in to rings of mail and helmets, lest that thy love prove likewise variable.”
“What shall I swear by?”
“Do not swear at all. Or, if thou wilt, swear by thy gracious self, which is the god of my idolatry, and I’ll believe thee. Let’s get married!”
“I wish I could, but my family has forbidden it.”
“So has mine. I don’t get it.”
“I have an idea! It will be a secret marriage! I won’t even tell George!”
“A cave troll. He’s my best friend.”
“All right, I won’t even tell Fred!”
And so the two lovebirds were married, by the ever-talented Balrog “Of” Morgoth. They thanked Of and set off on their separate ways happily. Yet something rotten was brewing in the state of Mithril Land, and Fred and George in an effort to protect their families, inevitably confronted each other.
Fred and George lunged at each other, twirling rusted chains above their heads. They collided and their weapons entwined in a an intricate mess they soon dropped on the floor. Shrugging, they turned and went at it again. Sweat poured down their backs, as they bit and punched each other’s stomachs and shoulders. In came Snikbog scurrying down from the ceiling, shoving them apart yelling, “NO! DON’T FIGHT!” Fred, seeing an opportunity, ripped open George’s stomach. Then, a moan and a resounding thud. Fred staggered away as a vengeful light entered Snikbog’s eyes. “FOR GEORGE!” he hollered as he jumped upon Fred’s back and commenced to stab him with a jagged knife. As Fred fell to the floor, dying, Snikbog jumped off his back and ran, having made the first bitter kill of his life.
Snikbog dashed blindly along the twisting corridors of Khazad-dûm. He knew he could never return. As his last footsteps rang, a party of tearful comrades found their beloved Fred. Rose’s heart was shattered into thousands of lifeless pieces.
“How are we ever going to bury him?” remarked a distraught Lily, swimming in tears.
“We’ll have Of do a service for him,” sniffed Merry.
“How could Snikbog have done this?” cried Stella.
“WHAT?” all the other hobbits turned and stared at her.
“Snikbog did this? Your `wonderful’ orc killed Fred?!” Lily was furious.
“That orc has been sniffing around here for something, or someone. Stella?” said Merry expectantly.
“All right, I admit it! We’re, we’re… MARRIED!” Stella ran off crying.
“Oh. That was random.” remarked Ruby, watching Stella run off for the umpteenth time.
“Nerves of steel, that one.” said Pippin, turning back to Fred.
Stella flew to Of, looking for a poison with which to kill herself. Of, thinking she just needed to sleep it off, gave her some powdered asphodel as a sleeping draught. Afterwards, she went back to her empty hole and drank it. Meanwhile, Of did a beautiful service for Fred. After the hobbits went home, Of was sitting and meditating. Snikbog interrupted him, coming back just once more, risking his life for news of Stella. Unfortunately for Snikbog, Of was still half in the spirit world, and though he told Snikbog that Stella was at her hole, he forgot to tell him about the sleeping draught. Snikbog arrived and saw Stella, as though dead. Creeping in through the hole that served as a window, he kissed her, saying “Stella, even though you’re dead, you’re just as attractive as you were when you were alive.” Taking out a large rock from his pocketses, he smote himself on the head. Just then Stella woke.
“Stella? You’re alive. But I thought you were dead! So I bludgeoned myself with a rock!” Snikbog died.
Stella looked wildly about the room and spotted – a poisonous Moria spider! “Not for long I won’t be,” she shouted, “Here, spider, have my hand!”
“In marriage?” asked the spider as he bit her. She began to feel ill. She laid down on her bed to rest, thinking it would all be over soon, and she fell asleep. When she woke, she discovered she had become a new force for law and order… Spider-Hobbit!
“Dang. Another poison failed. Now I’ll just have to fight crime.”
As for the rest of the crew, an underwater stream was found, full of fishes. So they took to fishing, and became friends with the orcs.
As the cute little gasping orc children gathered around her, Lily awed them with yet another story. “So there I was, in the midst of a great council of elves. They were all trying to decide where they would send us. Whether to Lothlorien, where no orc returns alive, or to…”
Ruby remained busy, trying to make useful things out of mithril, and failing. So she became an orc fashion designer, making orcs their first mithril clothes, and was famous throughout Moria.
Merry stayed at home writing tomes about pipeweed, much to the disgust of Ruby.
Pippin became the leader of Mithril Land, and drew something called the Mischief Map, leading to every place in Moria.
Balrog “Of” Morgoth discovered he liked priesthood, and soon became Father Of.
Little Frodo grew up, and took to obsessing over rings made of mithril.
And they all lived happily ever after in Mithril Land (except for Snikbog)…
This is as much Lily_Took’s story as mine, and she deserves so much credit! Thanks, Lily!
Thanks, Ruby! *blushes*. Just wanted to say that for all of you wondering how the Ents are going to get to Isengard . . .well . . .er . . .how about this? Spider-Hobbit, after reconciling with the others, discovers how to make a time machine out of mithril (with lendings from Ainariel), and goes to the Ents, convincing them that it’s sort of important. They all then go on to Rohan and Minas Tirith.