MeyRevived (meyrevived) wrote in slashfreelotr,
MeyRevived
meyrevived
slashfreelotr

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Lord of the Crack

Title: Lord of the Crack
Fandom: Lord of the Rings
Pairing: Every pairing fandom ever created, in a point-and-laugh fashion.
type: Parody.
Warnings: uh...a frequent dirty joke here and there but nothing too vile.
Beta: Cait-sama ^_^
synopsis: A Series of short drabbles and sketches, from both book and movie versions of LOTR, with humorous intentions.
Chapter:


Aragorn Rants

Disclaimer: Lord of the Rings belongs to J.R.R Tolkien and not to myself. If there are any references to the movies it also does not belong to me, but to Peter Jackson.

Author’s Thanks: Go to iluvJDS (‘actually made me laugh’? is that so surprising?), The Goddess Diana (thank you! Here’s some more for you), T.C the Savage (thank you!), Oozy Rat (what a name! and thank you!), To Whitesakura my preciousssssssss (here’s where that joke makes more sense! I hope you’ll still be reading this even if your LOTR fandom days are gone with the wind) and to Eleven Hope.

Also many, many thanks to my beta Cait!

Author’s Notes: This chapter is completely aimed at the movie version because it points and laughs at something in the movie version.

************************************************************


Regarding Hobbits


A Wizard, an Elf, a hobbit, another hobbit close by, a dwarf and two hobbits huddle together in a fit of giggles. Two men trail the end of the Fellowship’s convoy. The Fellowship is making its way through Middle Earth on their way to the ominous Mordor.

Aragorn places a foot on a rock in his path, about to pull the rest of his body forward in order to put the rock behind him when he feels a heavy hand land on his shoulder.

He turns around to look at Boromir, whose eyes suddenly carry a strange spark.

Oh no, here it comes again….
Aragorn is well beyond the point of being able to listen to Boromir rave about his White City and how the Ring is a gift and what a good ring bearer he could be without wanting to charge at the man with his sword unsheathed.

“Aragorn….have you….errr….noticed something strange about the hobbits?”

Aragorn climbs the rock and shoots a strange look at Boromir. The man did say ‘hobbitS’ and not ‘the hobbit’ or ‘the ring bearer’ or ‘Frodo’ or anything. Perhaps he is referring to the other three as well. Perhaps this isn’t another lunatic raving session….
“What about them?”

Boromir slows his walking pace so the two men are a bit separated from the other seven walkers. His eyes dart to the sides, forward to the all-hearing-all-seeing elf and the even-more-all-hearing-and-all-seeing-,-hell-he-can-even-see-through-your-clothes! Gandalf.
“The hobbits…..their accents….”

“…Their…accents…?!”

“Yes, they’re inconsistent.”

“…?!”

Noting his fellow man is now looking at him with eyes unclouded by the usual ‘you’re nuts Boromir, the Ring’s eating at your brain, I really don’t know why we keep you around anymore’ mist, Boromir speaks on.
“See, they all come from the Shire right? And they’ve all grown in pretty much the same environment, right? So there’s absolutely no reason why their accents shouldn’t be the same, right?”

Aragorn nods faintly, searching the other man’s face for traces of upcoming mouth foam like all the other times Boromir raved. Seeing there were none, he began listening more carefully.

“So how come Frodo, for example, has a kind of correct clean British English accent with a very faint slip towards American pronunciation, like he’s forcing the British accent upon himself?

“Peregrin, on the other hand, has a natural accent that flows on perfectly. Only, his accent is Scottish, isn’t it? A very natural Scottish accent from someone who grew up in the same place as Frodo the Oxford British English.

“Meriadoc, on the other hand, has a kind of unidentified semi- Scottish-semi-British-with-a-touch-of-German-but-actually-Yorkshir-ish accent that can really give someone a headache if you try to pin-point it.”

Aragorn blinked incoherently, but nodded at Boromir’s babble.

“Samwise has a kind of….well…..Dorset county originated accent that sounds fluent, but if you try to find its origins amongst the origins of the other hobbit’s accents, it can confuse you.”
Boromir stared at Aragorn, awaiting the man’s response.

Aragorn blinked again. Then he mouthed a little. And frowned a little.

Another burst of ideas sprang through Boromir’s mouth.
“And the orcs, their accent is really interesting,” he threw his arm across Aragorn’ shoulder and began leading them both forward after the rest of the Fellowship, giving their conversation a somewhat scholars-sharing-an-idea feeling.

“T-the orcs?”

“Yes, the little runty filthy ones.”

“I thought they were all runty and filthy…”

“Yeah but that’s besides the point, I’m talking about their accents now.”

“What about their accents?!”

“Cockney, all of them!”

“…?!...”

“Whenever there’s a scene with only orcs or a scene featuring several speaking orcs it’s like something out of EastEnders! If I was cockney I’d be very insulted that someone…..”

“Boromir….”

“Would think that just because in England….”

“Boromir….”

“They’re perceived as ‘working class’….”

“Boromir!”

“Uh….eh?”

Aragorn stopped their walking and faced Gondor’s representative in the Fellowship. He placed two friendly hands on Boromir’s shoulders and looked the man deep in the eyes, softly, and fatherly, not negatively at all.
“Now, Boromir, you’ve forgotten what I told you this morning; when you smoke Hobbit Weed for the first time it’s very important not to fully inhale into the lungs. You need to let your body get used to what you’re putting into it.”

Boromir gaped and blinked. Then he blinked again. The third time he blinked he closed his mouth and looked away. A slight frown indicated that he began realising what his leader tried telling him.

He turned his eyes to Aragorn.
“Oh….I see…..”

Nodding, Aragorn let go of his fellow man and began walking forward again.

“You know,” he heard Boromir call out from behind. He stopped and turned.

The Gondorian smiled softly.
“I was about to say something about those new green and pink highlights in your beard, but….I guess that’s just the Hobbit Weed speaking, right?”

Smiling brightly, Aragorn nodded. He dealt Boromir a masculine heavy pat to the back and dragged the man along with him.

Half an hour later….

“Eh…Aragorn….I’m hungry….I want….hmm, something salty maybe….no, something sweet…..maybe both.”

“It’s called the munchies Boromir….. I’ve just had an epiphany regarding Pippin’s behaviour.”



(end)





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