Small hobbit, big grief!
A New Line Cinema/Pixar/Disney Production
This story is not yet rated.
Frodo Baggins, after inheriting a magic ring from his uncle/cousin/benefactor/elderly/eccentric relative Bilbo, is compelled by the wizard Gandalf to take it to Mordor to be destroyed.
Collecting a few loyal companions, Frodo set off on a vague and decidedly dangerous quest.
“Where’d you say we was going Mr. Frodo?” asked Sam, his loyal gardener, companion, head cook and bottle washer.
“A place called Mordor, Sam,” Frodo sighed, gripping the ring that lay like an anchor in his pocket.
“I think Frodo’s had too much sun,” mused Frodo’s second cousin on his mother’s side (or was that his father’s side), Merry, after hearing Frodo’s plan.
“I have not,” Frodo grumbled, wiping his sweating brow.
“When’s luncheon?” piped in Pippin, a tweenish hobbit brought along purely for comic relief.
As they traveled along, the ring caused Frodo to have strange visions. These dark images included one of a large finned fish with very sharp teeth, looming out of the water. The fish was trying to eat his ring.
“Heh, heh, heh,” the fish gloated in Frodo’s mind, grinning evilly. “You cannot hide!”
“Aiiiieeee!” Screaming in terror, Frodo fled in panic, leaving his companions struggling behind.
“Now what are we going to do?” Sam muttered, hours later as the three remaining hobbits slogged through the murky waters of the Dead Marshes lost and alone. “We’ll never find him!”
Suddenly a small blue fish popped out of a fetid pool and grinning at them it squealed a happy greeting: “HELLO!”
“Who are you?” Sam questioned staring in disbelief at the talking fish.
“My name’s Dory…ummmm, I think…yeah, yeah, that’s right…Dory…”
“Have you seen our friend Frodo anywhere around here?” Pippin asked, crouching by the fish.
“He’s a hobbit, small guy…furry feet…” Merry explained.
“Yeah…I saw him…running through…” Dory admitted with a silly grin.
“Which way did he go?” Sam asked excitedly.
“Frodo!” the three hobbits exclaimed.
“Don’t know him.” The blue fish thought for a moment. “There was this short, furry footed guy that came by a few minutes ago…he might know where your friend is.”
“Oh yeah, I knew that.” Dory’s eyes brightened. “Don’t worry…I’ll help you find little Flipper!”
“FRODO!” the three hobbits yelled in unison again.
“Right…lets go!” The fish swam off a few feet paused, looked left then right and then swam back. “Where are we going?”
“Mordor,” Sam sighed, exasperated.
“That’s right, come on, follow me!” And off she went not waiting for the three hobbits to follow. “Just keep swimming, swimming, swimming…”
Frodo crouched against the dark stones of Mordor, holding the ring in his hand petting it absently. “Precious…precious….my precious…” he muttered.
Frodo looked up with a start to peer into the eyes of a little blue fish.
“Is your name Frisco?” the fish asked with a smile.
“Ah…Frodo?” he corrected, watching the fish anxiously, not sure if this was another of his strange visions.
“Yeah, right.” The fish glanced around, confused. “Don’t worry, I’m, uh, here to help you…”
The fish jumped into his hand, and seeing the ring lying there exclaimed: “Oh look, something shiny!”
“Ummm, you’re a fish,” Frodo muttered, staring at the blue creature in his hand, “and you just swallowed my ring.”
“Now how am I going to destroy it?” Frodo cried.
“Don’t worry…I’ll help you destroy it Frito!”
“Yeah…right…” the fish pondered a moment then flipped from his hand and wiggled away, “let’s go!”
Frodo and Dory hopped into the bill of a rather large pelican (and what a rather large pelican was doing in Mordor at that particular time is another story entirely) and headed off to Mount Doom.
They flew on and on, chased by Nazgul and tormented by the burning of the Great Eye, until they reached the fiery crack in the mountain.
“Time for the ring to go bye-bye…” Dory bubbled, looking out of the pelican’s bill to stare into the sea of molten rock. “Oooohhhh look, pretty!”
“No…no…I want to keep it…” Frodo whined, pawing at the fish. “Give it to me! It’s mine! You can’t have it!”
Frodo tried to grab the little fish but she slipped through his fingers and squirted over the edge of the pelican’s bill.
Down, down, down she fell…
“Aiiiieeeee…Geronimo!!!!” she squealed, right before plunging with a sickening sizzle into the burning pit.
Somewhere in the dark of lord’s realm, Gollum cackled, rubbing his hands together eagerly. “Yum…fried fishies!”
Frodo startled awake, sitting up in a large elven bed at Rivendell. He clutched at his throbbing head and felt the unmistakable lurching of a queasy stomach. At his bedside, Gandalf sat smoking his pipe.
“Gandalf, I’ve had the strangest dream,” Frodo whispered in deference to his aching head. “There was this ring, and an Eye…and this little blue fish. It was all so very strange!”
“Oh Frodo, I warned you about combining miruvor and birthday cake,” Gandalf reminded with a devilish smile, “you’ve been hallucinating!”
This is a work of fan fiction, written because the author has an abiding love for the works of J R R Tolkien. The characters, settings, places, and languages used in this work are the property of the Tolkien Estate, Tolkien Enterprises, and possibly New Line Cinema, except for certain original characters who belong to the author of the said work. The author will not receive any money or other remuneration for presenting the work on this archive site. The work is the intellectual property of the author, is available solely for the enjoyment of Henneth Annûn Story Archive readers, and may not be copied or redistributed by any means without the explicit written consent of the author.