Disclaimers: I do not own The Silmarillion, The Lord of the Rings, and "Aladdin". The Silmarillion, The Lord of the Rings and other Middle-earth works belong to J.R.R. Tolkien, Peter Jackson, New Line Cinema, Warner Brothers, Turbine and Standing Stones Games. "Aladdin" belongs to Disney. All other canon material belongs to their respected owners. All original material—original characters, original locations, etc.—belongs to me, the authoress of this fanfiction story.
Song for Chapter 13: Lady Gaga's song, "Poker Face" (plays during Sindra's drinking party with Smeagol).
Warning! This chapter is Rated T for mild sensual content and heavy drinking.
This chapter… what can I say about this chapter?
Well, it took me fifteen drafts, just to get it to finally flow right. One time, there was so much dialogue and not enough description. So, I put this chapter on hold for a month or so until I picked it back up again.
I didn't finally get the flow of this chapter until last night, when I figured: "hey! Maybe I should add, an End of Introduction, to the previous chapter. See what happens!" It turns out, that was the spark I needed to finally get this chapter moving.
It took me a couple of hours, after I woke up to finally get the flow going again with the rest of this chapter.
So yes, there's my mini-story. *sigh of relief*
Now, I should point out that this chapter involves heavy drinking from Smeagol. Honestly, that's how the chapter wanted to go. And since we haven't seen Smeagol in a long time, it's time we bring him back. :) Ah Sindra, what are you doing to our poor Smeagol? :)
Beatrice wandered through the desert. It had been a long time, since she entered this area. She didn't want to miss the results of her trial.
She looked around, hopeful that no one followed her. No one was close to her, but someone was far away. She observed her landscape for the last time, not knowing the dangers that awaited her.
Her journey soon led her to an oasis, where she saw her favorite character, Aladdin, taking a drink of water. She tasted the water, finding it was sweet and fragrant.
She looked up, wondering whether or not she should speak with Aladdin, see how he was doing in this dream.
Wait… it was a dream? Yes, she was starting to see she had entered a dream. Now, how was she to stay in the dream? That was a good question.
She faced Aladdin, who was in a showdown with Jafar. Jafar, with pale skin, and donned in his black turban and black robes, as well as his black goatee.
"Stand your ground! Know your place!" Jafar cackled, loving this.
"Jafar, even you cannot stop us," Aladdin fought back. He was dressed in a purple vest and white breeches. Honestly, to Beatrice, seeing Aladdin wear only his purple vest and white breeches intrigued her. She really was in a dream, and it seemed like Aladdin might be her way to set things right.
She was surprised, the moment Aladdin looked at her. Jafar walked away from them, laughing, "Ingrates! Thieves! You will all pay for your crimes!"
Well, she hoped Jafar learned his lesson… wait. This made no sense! How could she be here with Aladdin and Jafar? She looked at Aladdin as he faced her. The very notion of being with Aladdin shocked Beatrice. Should she go with him? Should she stay behind and think?
She looked up; right as Aladdin approached her. The way his brown eyes met her bright green eyes gave her such a rush! Her heart raced. More than anything, she wanted to take Aladdin's hand and be with him, where adventures awaited her.
But lo! She stopped and looked around her. Something wasn't right.
"Go to Frodo!" Aladdin said, confusing her.
Her smile faded. She asked him, "Find who?"
"Frodo! Frodo's your true love! Find him!" Aladdin said, stunning her.
"Uhhh…" Beatrice didn't know what to say. "…But I thought I was your true love."
Aladdin laughed. "Please Beatrice, you are everything to me. But you must find Frodo. Please Beatrice. When you wake up, ask Frodo about your family. Your real family. You may find out more than you need."
"Will we meet again?" Beatrice asked, curiously.
Aladdin nodded. "Don't worry. I am always with you."
"Beatrice," Frodo's voice called out to Beatrice in the darkness, "awaken."
Beatrice opened her eyes.
It had been hours since she slept soundly. Frodo cuddled up next to her. She breathed a sigh of relief, the second Frodo bit the side of her neck, drinking her iron rich blood.
Her heart raced. More than anything, she thought this continued the dream. That she would discover Will Turner was her real father, and that he wouldn't leave her alone.
She was sorely mistaken. And she knew it, even as Frodo drank her blood. She licked her lips. Her throat was parched. She needed water, but also needed Frodo's blood to quench her thirst.
She looked over her shoulder, as Frodo kissed the wound, healing it in a manner of seconds. She closed her eyes, purring, even as Frodo kissed her on the lips, licking the blood that ran down her mouth with wicked delight.
"Frodo, do you know who my real father and my real mother are?" Beatrice asked, turning around and cuddling up next to his chest. "You're so warm."
Frodo chuckled. "I'm cold, too. But hey, we're the same temperature."
Beatrice nodded. "Yes, we are." She looked up at him, asking, "But seriously, who are our real parents? Do you have real parents?"
Frodo looked at her with a serious expression on his face. He told her, "My real mother is Selindra, the elven archer you met on the road. I read your mind. That's how I know. She's still in Middle-earth. We have to go back there."
Beatrice's smile faded. "And your father? Your real father?"
Frodo sighed, "His name is Andalas. He's a hobbit archer, well renowned where he lives at the Gladden Fields."
"Do you think we'll ever see it? The Gladden Fields?" Beatrice asked, curiously.
Frodo eyed her wildly. He looked at her, telling her, "You know I want to." He shrugged. "Maybe we will on the road." He added, "As for your real mother and your real father, I know who they are. They are the light red dragonoid, Parker Dooley, and your mother, your real mother, is a human woman named Eliza Bowler-Dooley." He shrugged, adding, "Your grandfather, Maxin Dooley, is not who you think he is. He's your older brother. Your real older brother. Of course, he would marry us off. In this life."
"And what about our past lives? What were they like? Did you complete the Quest to destroy the One Ring?" Beatrice asked, curiously.
"You know that quest is over. The Ring is no longer here. I told you this before. Remember Beatrice?" Frodo asked.
Beatrice sighed. "You know I do. The Ring was destroyed when you were sixteen."
"Eighteen. Time jumped during the Second and Third Timelines," Frodo gulped. Should he give her more memories of the past? "Bah! What do I know? What we did in the Second and Third Timelines affected us all, perhaps in a good way. The point is this is no longer the Ring Quest. Sauron fled, as soon as I told him there's a chance that he might be good again."
He sighed, telling her, "The point is I messed with the timelines, threw us into the Fourth Timeline, so that the Ring was already destroyed and that I could save Smeagol, save Gollum, save Sauron, and save you, if you'll let me." He added, "You weren't allowed to come into the Second and Third Timelines. That's for fictional characters. You were born in this world. And I would rather like to get you back to Middle-earth with me, so we can find my real parents and yours."
"Did we create this timeline?" Beatrice asked.
Frodo nodded. "We did, and I'm still cursed, even though the curse is broken. You are, too, since we're true lovers. We have pirates' blood in us, smugglers' blood, dragons' blood, merfolk blood, and vampire blood in our veins. It's what we do best, what comes naturally."
Beatrice giggled. "I did not know that." She admitted, "I hope Smeagol and Snow are okay."
"Well," Frodo said, noticing they were alone, "if they made it out on their own, then they're fine. I'm just glad I'm with you."
Beatrice sighed, resting her head on his chest. "I love you, Frodo. You know I do."
"I know. I love you," Frodo said, kissing her on the lips.
Smeagol crawled on all fours.
The last thing he expected at this late hour was Sindra's guests arriving at her house. Sindra's house was two stories tall and had plenty of space to roam about.
Smeagol enjoyed the fish sandwich he ate, alongside Sindra. They had gone to a parlor that included food abd ice cream. Smeagol enjoyed getting a fish sandwich, which helped him eat human food, instead of just raw fish.
Maybe he could recover. Maybe there was hope!
Then Smeagol came to Sindra's house and boy, did he not expect such a clean house with a tall ceiling, many windows, and a television set, which he enjoyed.
It was very… Oriental.
Now, now it was late at night. And here Sindra was disturbing the peace with her drinking alcohol alongside her buddies, which included a woman with silver hair and keen interest in the snack booth.
"Smeagol doesn't like this," Smeagol said, warily. He turned to Sindra, asking her, "Sindra didn't tell Smeagol about her party."
"Oh, isn't it great? Hold on!" Sindra said, announcing to her partiers a moment later, "Everyone gather around! It's time for a drinking game." Her guests cheered. Clearly, she was going to enjoy this rave.
She smirked, looking at Smeagol and asking him, as she poured him a drink of rum. "Would you like some rum?"
"Smeagol hasn't had rum centuries! Smeagol doesn't need to drink… okay," Smeagol said, just as Sindra passed to him a drink. "Smeagol will just have one drink." He drank down the drink, finding it tantalizing.
He licked his chops, debating on what to do next. Well, he dived in for the next drink, drinking that shot down.
By the third drink, Smeagol found himself in a daze. All he could see were people moving back and forth. He couldn't help himself. He started giggling, finding himself enjoying more drinks.
By the fourth drink, he was losing his senses. The next thing he did, by the fifth drink, was dance on the table in his Smeagol dance. The crowd cheered him on, enjoying themselves.
"Smeagol! Smeagol! Smeagol!" Sindra cheered, as did the crowd, as Smeagol got into his dancing.
Smeagol twirled a couple of times, finding himself getting into the groove of the music. Just as he crushed the table with his feet, Smeagol landed plop on the carpeted floor, laughing it up.
"Smeagol likes this very much. Smeagol going after more drinks!" Smeagol said, drinking his sixth and seventh drink of rum and ale for the night.
She was happy for Smeagol. She honestly was, especially since she realized that Smeagol was a really good dancer. She paused, taking another sip of rum, only to regret it, the moment a voice intruded in her thoughts.
"Huh?" Sindra asked, confused.
Sindra's been a bad girl lately, has she? It was Gollum's voice. She knew it was. So, why was Gollum invading her mind, when she hadn't touched the One Ring?
"I don't know what you're talking about," Sindra said, pausing. She set her drink down on the table, unsure what to do next.
Don't drink anymore rum! Yavanna's voice came out of the blue in Sindra's mind. She told her, You can no longer drink rum or ale; at least, not in this world. Follow Smeagol. He'll lead you to the character food. You need it to travel with Frodo and Beatrice, straight to Middle-earth.
"Huh?" Sindra asked, facing the food and drinks that were on a nearby table, where Smeagol was drinking his rum, ale, and beer without fault. Sindra turned around. Strange, only Smeagol and Sindra's dog Cooper were eating the food on the table.
It was character food, wasn't it?
Sindra hesitated going after the food. She didn't know why Yavanna wanted her to eat the character food, let alone wonder why her dog Cooper was eating the character food, too.
Did she miss something? Was there a reason why he was eating the food, and Smeagol, too?
She paused. Where was Trixie? Where had she been this whole time? Sindra sighed, diving for the character food without trouble. She looked on at Smeagol as he drank his eighth drink of rum.
"You're drinking too much! Don't you ever tire?" Sindra asked, angrily.
"Smeagol's so happy!" Smeagol replied, jumping up and down.
Sindra shrugged. Oh well. One drink couldn't hurt, could it?
Yavanna sighed. She stared out the window at her house in Valinor.
It was all going according to plan, wasn't it? The characters who had been in the First Timelines, as well in the Zero Dimensions, hadn't a clue what was happening.
She couldn't believe she convinced Sindra to eat the character food. She truly was a character Eru Ilúvatar created. And now, Yavanna had proof behind it.
Her green dress flowed down to the floor. It was the perfect setting; one she couldn't have planned out herself.
Everyone was in their appropriate places. It was clear to Yavanna. No one was leaving Earth without her permission. No one.
"Remember Yavanna," Eru Ilúvatar pointed out, "it is up to me to decide whether or not this group stays or leaves Earth. It is my world, you know."
Yavanna cringed. Here, she thought she owned some part of Earth; that it was her part to command. But then, she couldn't put down the things Eru was telling her.
It made her feel worse, knowing Eru could do whatever he wanted. Did this mean that the light red dragonoid, Parker Dooley, or Maranguan, might return from the Zero Dimensions, making his way to the Fourth Timeline?
It was hard to say.
All Yavanna could really do was hope that nothing went wrong. As if, that was a serious charge.
"Very well," Yavanna said, teething. She stared at Sindra, who was trying to calm Smeagol down. Only, Smeagol broke another table on his way down to the carpeted floor with Sindra behind him.
Yavanna shook her head. So, this was how it had to be. "Fine," Yavanna said, pressured. "Then take this group to Middle-earth whenever you are ready. I fear there are other dangers ahead."
Eru nodded. "Very good." He walked away, but not entirely, for he was always in the same room with Yavanna and with everyone else at the same time.
Yavanna clasped her face in aggravation. "Sindra, what are you doing?"
"Give me that!" Sindra cried, fighting Smeagol for her new wine glass.
"No! Smeagol wants it!" Smeagol said in joyous delight.
The fighting lasted for a few more seconds. As Smeagol pulled the wine glass away from Sindra, the wine bottle flew across the room, landing with a crash against the wall.
Sindra stared at the spot for a few seconds, before she, Smeagol, and the crowd cheered them on. Sindra congratulated Smeagol with a pat on the back, "Good work, Smeagol. Let's take this place down!"
"Yeah," Smeagol said, wondering what he did to deserve this.
Sindra took another shot from the table, passing the ale over to Smeagol. "Here. For you. You've earned it." She drank down her ale, ready for another shot and another chance to explore the house with her guests in tow.
Smeagol drank his ninth glass of ale down. Already, his senses were getting to him. He couldn't believe he drank nine glasses of liquor and still hadn't recovered his senses until now.
Now, he was too drunk to even think straight. At least, he went by the character food and drink booth, before he got too drunk.
His eyes dazed as colors swarmed across his vision. He sighed, collapsing on the floor, too tired and too drunk to think.
He blacked out, unsure what was happening.
Sorry! :'( I think I nearly killed Smeagol! :'( Hopefully, Smeagol's all right in the next chapter, but it'll take a miracle to save him. :(
Stay tuned in the next chapter, where we find out whether or not Smeagol gets revived.