A Little Alliteration (LOTR)
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A Little Alliteration (LOTR)
by Admin Mon Aug 15, 2016 9:52 pm
WARNING CONTAIN’S SPOILERS FOR ROTK – don’t read if you haven’t seen the 3rd film yet – you have been warned!
My suggestion to you is to take your time and read this slowly. It is not to be rushed – enjoy the sounds and yes I’m afraid try as I might I just couldn’t keep ALL my humour out of it. But only one little bit crept in when I wasn’t looking!
Hope it comes up to standard!
Dishwaller
A Little Alliteration
The ragged and rugged rocks rose higher, rising to a rocky ridge sundering the earth in two, dividing the stagnant smelling Dead Marshes from the bleak barren wastelands leading to Mordor.
In a cold crevice the two exhausted hobbits clung to each other, mindful of the others fears. Their only advantage was the anticipation and the knowledge that they were not alone!
Gollum reached his cold barb like fingers down stretching, stretching still further to grasp and grip at the gold trinket.
Frodo sensed the frenzy and excitement of the creature, heard his guttural noises as the enticement became too much, the hiss of his vile voice, creeping under Frodo’s flesh “My Preciousssss.”
As the long lean gangling grotesque arm reached still further to its goal the hobbits pounced.
Gollum was hauled from his haven above and dragged down before the hobbits.
The fight was violent and vicious but the result of two onto one and ‘Sting’ gave the advantage.
Gollum was subdued, a snivelling struggling entity cringing at their mercy.
Frodo’s ‘need’ to tame, to temper, to train the creature crouching before him was paramount. How could he ever expect to be saved, salvaged even, if he would end up a wretched wraith like this pitiful poor creature at the end of his sanity, the result of the one ring’s overwhelming power.
Sam stood and started towards the cowering creature, attempting attack once more.
“No Sam!” shouted Frodo forcing Sam’s restraint. “No Sam! Leave him, let him lie, let him lose, let him lead us to Mordor. He knows the way!”
“But Frodo he means to kill us!”
“I said let him lie”
“Aye – through his teeth!”
“Well let him lead then, I alone will stand accountable for his actions and answer for the contemptible creature.”
Gollum licked his lips and leered at Sam.
“Yessssss” He hissed “I will guides’s the hiding hobbitsssey’s from mountains to Mordor!”
Time Moves To Mount Doom
The two hobbits lay together on the rough raised rocks, the raging roaring lava lurching along the ravines of the mountain, creeping closer, claiming their temporary sanctuary, about to claim their lives.
“It is all my fault, my fretting, my fear, my folly led us to this. My craving, my greed, my need! My poor Sam to die a death so dire. Surely the ending - just punishment, befitting the crime of craving the ring.”
“No Frodo. Do not blame yourself. This death means we have succeeded. The Shire survives, Rivendell remains, Lothlorien lasts and Middle Earth survives. Our death is a fitting end – not a punishment Frodo – never that!
The hobbits cling clutching at the last chance of life.
Skyward
Above in spiralling, swooping, swirling flight the eagles come eagerly, hastily, grasping, gripping the unconscious Halfling’s higher away from the fire.
Safe!
Sanctuary.
Salvation,
Success,
Saviours!
Two tired happy hobbits.
My suggestion to you is to take your time and read this slowly. It is not to be rushed – enjoy the sounds and yes I’m afraid try as I might I just couldn’t keep ALL my humour out of it. But only one little bit crept in when I wasn’t looking!
Hope it comes up to standard!
Dishwaller
A Little Alliteration
The ragged and rugged rocks rose higher, rising to a rocky ridge sundering the earth in two, dividing the stagnant smelling Dead Marshes from the bleak barren wastelands leading to Mordor.
In a cold crevice the two exhausted hobbits clung to each other, mindful of the others fears. Their only advantage was the anticipation and the knowledge that they were not alone!
Gollum reached his cold barb like fingers down stretching, stretching still further to grasp and grip at the gold trinket.
Frodo sensed the frenzy and excitement of the creature, heard his guttural noises as the enticement became too much, the hiss of his vile voice, creeping under Frodo’s flesh “My Preciousssss.”
As the long lean gangling grotesque arm reached still further to its goal the hobbits pounced.
Gollum was hauled from his haven above and dragged down before the hobbits.
The fight was violent and vicious but the result of two onto one and ‘Sting’ gave the advantage.
Gollum was subdued, a snivelling struggling entity cringing at their mercy.
Frodo’s ‘need’ to tame, to temper, to train the creature crouching before him was paramount. How could he ever expect to be saved, salvaged even, if he would end up a wretched wraith like this pitiful poor creature at the end of his sanity, the result of the one ring’s overwhelming power.
Sam stood and started towards the cowering creature, attempting attack once more.
“No Sam!” shouted Frodo forcing Sam’s restraint. “No Sam! Leave him, let him lie, let him lose, let him lead us to Mordor. He knows the way!”
“But Frodo he means to kill us!”
“I said let him lie”
“Aye – through his teeth!”
“Well let him lead then, I alone will stand accountable for his actions and answer for the contemptible creature.”
Gollum licked his lips and leered at Sam.
“Yessssss” He hissed “I will guides’s the hiding hobbitsssey’s from mountains to Mordor!”
Time Moves To Mount Doom
The two hobbits lay together on the rough raised rocks, the raging roaring lava lurching along the ravines of the mountain, creeping closer, claiming their temporary sanctuary, about to claim their lives.
“It is all my fault, my fretting, my fear, my folly led us to this. My craving, my greed, my need! My poor Sam to die a death so dire. Surely the ending - just punishment, befitting the crime of craving the ring.”
“No Frodo. Do not blame yourself. This death means we have succeeded. The Shire survives, Rivendell remains, Lothlorien lasts and Middle Earth survives. Our death is a fitting end – not a punishment Frodo – never that!
The hobbits cling clutching at the last chance of life.
Skyward
Above in spiralling, swooping, swirling flight the eagles come eagerly, hastily, grasping, gripping the unconscious Halfling’s higher away from the fire.
Safe!
Sanctuary.
Salvation,
Success,
Saviours!
Two tired happy hobbits.
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