The One Hour Fellowship Writing Challenge

Are We There Yet? by Middle Earth Munchkin


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Gandalf walked in front, and with him went Aragorn, who knew this land even in the dark. The others were in file behind, and Legolas whose eyes were keen was the rearguard. The first part of their journey was hard and dreary, and Frodo remembered little of it, save the wind. For many sunless days an icy blast came from the Mountains in the east, and no garment seemed able to keep out its searching fingers.

"Are we there yet?" asked Merry.

"No, little one," Boromir smiled, reaching out and patting his head.

"Are we where?" asked Pippin.

"Mordor, you silly Took, to the fires of Mt. Doom," Merry scolded him. "Don't you ever listen?"

"Oh," Pippin sighed. "I thought we were heading back to the Shire. I thought Mt. Doom was a code name for Lobelia."

Gandalf, with one hand on his staff, grabbed his hat with his other hand to keep it from blowing in the wind. A sudden noise to their right made him jerk sideways, thrusting his staff out before him. Aragorn drew his sword, Legolas strung an arrow on his bow, Gimli wielded his axe, and Boromir jumped in front of the hobbits. But nothing was there. They sighed and began walking again.

"Is it far?" Pippin asked Boromir, running alongside him.

"Mordor? It's quite a few leagues from here."

"Have you been there before?"

"Not inside Mordor," Boromir told him thoughtfully. "But I have been near its borders."

Another sudden noise in the bushes to their right made the Fellowship look over, but there was nothing there. They continued on.

Frodo wearily trudged along, Sam at his side. They were quiet for some time until Aragorn came up to Frodo's side. "Look, Frodo, I think we should plan ahead."

"Plan ahead?" Frodo asked, perplexed.

"Yes. Destroying the Ring will be a very important act. I think you should practice your Ring tossing." Aragorn pulled some small pebbles from a pouch and handed one to Frodo. "Here."

Frodo looked at him as if he had lost his mind. He glanced at Sam, who was silently mouthing the words, ‘It's probably a heir-to-the-throne-of-Gondor thing. Besides, he's twice your size. Just go along with it.'

Frodo sighed and took the pebble. He held it in his hand, then threw it to the side of the path.

"Good," said Aragorn. "But try to reach a little . . ."

Pippin and Merry skipped as they traveled beside Boromir. "That horn," Pippin pointed out, "where did you get it?"

Boromir glanced down, surprised. "Oh, my father gave it to me."

"What about your knife?"

"Oh, that was gift from my brother."

"Did your mom make your cloak?"

"No," Boromir sighed. "I don't remember my mother."

"Can I try your horn?" Pippin asked.

"No, I think it's best we didn't," Boromir told him.

"Can I play with your sword then?"

"Maybe later, when we stop I can teach you a few fencing moves," Boromir said. At the brightened faces of the two hobbits, he hoped that would silence them for awhile.

There was the sound of a branch breaking to the side of the path, and the Company turned in fear, but nothing was there. They continued on their way.

Frodo's arm was sore. He had thrown approximately 100 small stones in the past half hour. He wearily took another one from Aragorn, shifting his pack as he did so.

"What's that?" asked Aragorn, pointing to one of Frodo's pockets. "I thought you had the Ring on a chain around your neck."

"Oh, that," Frodo replied. "Well, it's something Elrond gave me before we left. He gave me a bunch of decoy rings, in case someone tried to take the One. I have quite a few decoys with me. That's partly why my pack is so heavy." He shifted it again on his shoulders.

Aragorn's eyes widened at the revelation. "Really? Can I have one?"

"No!" Frodo snapped. "They're mine. All of them!'

Aragorn took a step back and a looked over at Sam, who shrugged at him. They continued on their way.

Legolas walked alongside Gimli. "A red sun rises," he told him, "blood has been spilled this night."

"You could have picked a better spot," Gimli replied.

"They are taking the hobbits to Isengard," Legolas remarked.

"Nobody worry, it was deliberate!" Gimli cried.

"You lie!" Legolas hissed.

"Come, bring your pretty face to my axe!" Gimli growled.

The Dwarf and Elf suddenly both blinked, and looked at each other in confusion. Then they continued on.

It was nearing sunset. The Fellowship was heading toward a rocky overhang at the edge of a small wood, a mile distant. Every so often they thought they heard footsteps behind them, or the sound of hoarse breathing. But nothing was ever seen.

Boromir shifted his pack as he continued walking alongside Merry and Pippin.

"Are we there yet?" Pippin asked.

"To where?" Boromir asked, surprised that the little one didn't remember.

"To Mordoria."

Boromir laughed. "No, Moria is still several days' journey away. Hopefully though, we will be taking the southern route, to the gap of Rohan."

"Rohan," Pippin repeated. "That sounds like a nice place. Is it?"

"Yes," Boromir replied. "They are the horse-masters."

"How many horses do they have?"

"Oh, I don't know, a great many."

"Millions?'

"No, much less than that."

"Dozens?"

"No, quite a bit more than that. I would say hundreds."

"Is Rohan where you live?"

"No, I'm from Gondor."

"Do you have horses too?"

"Yes, we have some horses."

"Do you like to ride?"

"I don't mind it."

"I prefer to ride instead of walk. But unfortunately only small ponies can fit me."

"You are quite small for one of our horses."

"Does your brother ride?"

"I suppose he does."

"What's his name?"

"Faramir."

"Is he nice?"

"Yes, he is."

"Is he older than you?"

"No, I'm the oldest son of Denethor."

"Does he know Aragorn?"

"No."

"Is he taller than you?"

"No."

"Do you miss him?"

"Yes."

"Did you ever fight?"

"Yes."

"Does he have a horn too?"

"No."

"Does he have a sword?"

"Yes."

"Has he ever killed orcs?"

"Yes."

"Have you?"

"Yes."

"Has he ever been to Mordor?"

"No."

"Has he ever been to Rohan?"

"Yes."

"Do you speak Elvish?"

"No."

"Does your brother know other languages?"

"Yes."


"Is he married?"


"No."


"Are you married?"


"No."


"Do you have a girlfriend?"


"No."


"Why not?'


"I'm busy."


"Are there hobbits in Gondor?"


"Not any live ones." Boromir had had enough. He picked up Pippin by his hair, opened his back pack, and stuffed the hobbit inside, squishing him somewhere between a loaf of bread and his bedroll. Merry looked at him in surprise, but wisely said nothing.


The Company finally reached the campsite. They threw down their packs, not noticing the squeal that came from within Boromir's. Gimli started a fire and they sat for awhile in the growing darkness. They soon once again heard the sounds of approaching footsteps. It seemed as if some large creature was slowly coming upon their position. Gandalf thrust out his staff, Aragorn drew his sword, Legolas strung an arrow in his bow, Gimli wielded his axe, and Boromir jumped in front of all three hobbits.


Suddenly, from out of the darkness, snarling and growling, came a very large and ferocious–




Oh well. Time's up. Can't finish. :)

Okay, well, I'll finish that last part.


Suddenly, from out of the darkness, snarling and growling, came a very large and ferocious-looking cave troll, which Gandalf struck with his staff, Aragorn stabbed with his sword, Legolas shot with arrows, Gimli hewed with his axe, and Boromir struck with his knife.


Soon the nasty creature was dead and the Company had a nice feast. (Ew!!!)


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