The Most Unlikely Creature Imaginable (Smallville/LotR Crossover)
One of the prompts for undermistletoe was to do a crossover fic with characters from one fandom filling the roles of another fandom. snarkist wrote a great, sexy Smallville Clex crossover with The Pretender. Even if you haven't ever seen The Pretender, you should read Outside the Chase.
Her fic made me think of how I might've written a crossover and what fandom I might have chosen. My fic isn't sexy. It has no redeemable value whatsoever. It's just plain silly.
The Most Unlikely Creature Imaginable
aka - How to Make a Really Long Story Short
"Frodo!"
"He's not here."
Gandalf spun and saw a huge man stooped almost in half to fit into the small home of a Hobbit. "What have you done with him?" Gandalf asked, staff at ready to blast the creature.
"I didn't do anything. Cousin Frodo decided to visit some relatives since I'm now old enough to stay on my own." The man studied Gandalf. "You must be the wizard he's told me about."
"And you are...?" Gandalf asked.
"I'm Clark. Frodo adopted me. He kept me hidden for a while but I think I got a bit too big for that."
Perhaps, Gandalf thought, this Clark might do in Frodo's stead.
"The ring! Does Frodo still have the ring?"
"You mean the one with the weird writing inside?"
Gandalf wondered how Clark knew about the writing, but ignored it. "Show it to me."
Clark retrieved the envelope the ring was kept in. Gandalf threw the envelope with the ring inside into the fire. When Clark moved forward to rescue it, Gandalf waved him aside and used tongs to bring it out of the fire himself.
The words inside the ring glowed.
"You know," Clark said, "if you'd told me that you wanted to heat up the ring, I could've-"
"No time for that now," Gandalf said. "This is the One Ring. The ring of Sauron that gives the bearer the power of invisibility and long life, but over time devours him."
Clark looked at Gandalf. "That's bad, right?"
Maybe Clark wouldn't do as substitute for Frodo, after all. Too bad Gandalf didn't have much choice. "You must take this ring to Rivendell," he told Clark.
"Okay. I'll just run it-"
"It will be a dark and dangerous journey. You must be careful. The Black Riders will be after you."
"It's not a problem. Really. I can run it over there in no-"
"Stay off the roads," Gandalf warned. "I'll meet you at the Prancing Pony in Bree. Don't trust anyone and be careful of the ring!"
Gandalf hurried out of the house, hoping he'd done the right thing in entrusting the ring's mission to this most un-Hobbitlike person.
* * *
"Sam?" Clark said, leaning out the window. "Did you hear that?"
Sam clambered over the windowsill, nodding. "That I did Master Clark."
"I don't know why I can't just run it over to Rivendell. I could be there, drop it off, then be back here by bedtime."
Sam shook his head to signal a similar lack of understanding. "I can't tell you that, Master Clark. There's no understanding wizards."
* * *
Clark sat at the table drinking milk at the Prancing Pony while Sam, sitting next to him, drank mead. Their journey had been fairly uneventful. Sam had packed up their supplies, mostly consisting of food for Clark, who had an appetite that a Hobbit could appreciate, and they'd set off.
Along the way, they'd met Pippin and Merry, who were always up for an adventure and had decided to join them.
It had been pretty obvious who the Black Riders were. Clark wondered what they were. They didn't look like meteor mutants. He'd dealt with enough Hobbit mutants to know the difference. The last one had been one of the Proudfoot cousins whose hair on his feet could crush boulders, a power of which he'd been quite proud.
Every time they'd encountered a Rider, Clark had simply picked up Sam, Merry, and Pippin and whooshed away.
"Gandalf's late," Clark said, as he set his mug of milk back onto the table.
Sam didn't say anything. They'd had that discussion half a dozen times already. In the meanwhile, Merry and Pippin were on the far side of the tavern, trying to out-drink several men. It looked as though they were succeeding.
"It might do well for us to keep a low profile, Master Clark. I, for one, don't like the looks you're getting from that stranger over there."
"You mean the hooded one? He seems harmless."
"Not that one. The bald man. The way he looks at you is downright obscene, if you don't mind me saying so."
Clark turned and saw the man whom Sam had mentioned. The stranger was slim, bald, and was, indeed, eyeing Clark in a manner that made Clark blush.
"Maybe I should go see what he wants," Clark said, rising to his feet.
"Pretty obvious what he wants," Sam grumbled.
Clark gave Sam a small grin, and then made his way through the tavern. When he passed the hooded man, who he knew was watching him, he didn't pause, but continued on until he reached the stranger that Sam had pointed out.
"Hi. Can I sit down?"
"Please, be my guest." The man indicated the chair across from the table him.
"I noticed you watching me."
"You're eminently watchable. It's not often one sees a man in the company of three Hobbits. I thought I was the only one with that particular fantasy."
Clark felt disappointed. He'd been thinking the man had been watching for an entirely different reason other than a curiosity about Hobbits. "I'm a Hobbit, too," he told him. "My name's Clark Baggins."
"And I'm Lex Luthor." He glanced over at Merry and Pippin, then back at Clark. "I hadn't realized that Hobbits grew to such heights."
"I'm adopted," Clark said. He would've said more, but he felt a hand come down on his shoulder and turned to see who it was. It was the hooded stranger who was glaring at Lex.
"This one is under my protection. You Luthors may be known for taking that which does not belong to you, but Mister Baggins shall not be one of them."
"Still touchy about my father taking over Gondor, I see." Lex looked pointedly at the man's hand on Clark. "I didn't know your taste had changed so dramatically, Aragorn. I do hope someone has informed that little elf girlfriend of yours."
"Do not attribute to me your thoughts and motives."
Lex got to his feet. "I'll take my leave, then." Raising his hand, he ran a finger down Clark's cheek, then under his chin, tipping it up slightly. "Until next time," he purred.
As he walked away, Clark watched avidly, giving in to the temptation to use his special power of vision.
"He doesn't have a single hair on him, does he?" Clark sighed.
"That is the legend," Aragorn said, taking Lex's seat. He studied Clark for a moment. "How did you know?'
Clark flushed. "Lucky guess?"
* * *
Something was going on with the Hobbits, Aragorn thought. Especially that tall one.
Aragorn believed Clark was habitually lying to him, but he had no idea about exactly what. There had been the incident in Bree with Luthor. Now, here they were on Weathertop and he was lying again.
He'd left the Hobbits to themselves and they'd foolishly made a fire. Racing back to them, he'd been halfway up the side of the hill when Riders began falling past him. Some of them were aflame.
Reaching the top, he strode toward the Hobbits. "Tell me what happened."
"Whatever do you mean?" Merry asked. "We've had ourselves a small meal, that's all."
"Would you like some?" Pippin offered. "Sam made a fine stew. It will fill and warm you."
Aragorn tried not to yell. His words came out in a low growl instead. "Do you take me for a fool? As I climbed back up here, Riders were tumbling down like blossoms from a tree in spring."
"Oh, you mean that." Merry turned to Pippin. "He wasn't talking about the stew, Pippin."
"Well, it is a very fine stew," Pippin replied.
Before Aragorn could tear them into littler pieces than they were, Sam stepped forward. "We don't rightly know what happened. We were eating when them Riders showed up. Got right next to the fire, they did. Then, a wind swept down. Like the hand of God, it was, and sent them over the side."
"A wind," Aragorn repeated.
"It was a miracle," Sam said. Pippin and Merry nodded their agreement.
Behind the three of them, Clark stood silent.
Aragorn pushed past the small Hobbits to stand in front of Clark. "And what say you?" he asked. Behind him, he could almost feel the tension in the other Hobbits rise.
"It was the wind," Clark said.
The boy was lying. They all were lying.
Aragorn decided he'd much rather deal with Orcs than Hobbits. At least Orcs you could kill without angering a wizard.
* * *
"Described what happened at the river," Gandalf asked Aragorn.
"To tell the truth," Aragorn said, "I don't really know. The Riders were upon us and the next thing I knew, the Hobbits had disappeared. I searched for them to no avail. Then, as the Riders were closing in on me, it was as if the very forest began to attack them. Rocks flew at them. The trees became uprooted and fell upon them. When I reached the river, I spied all four Hobbits waiting for me on the far shore, though how they came to be there, I know not."
"Curious," Gandalf said.
Aragorn nodded. "I have never seen it's like in this world before."
* * *
Clark sat in his chair as Elrond called the Council to order. Elrond opened his mouth to begin his speech when in sauntered Lex Luthor.
The one called Boromir stood. "What are you doing here, usurper?"
"Technically, my father's the usurper. I am merely the heir to the usurper. And isn't this a meeting of heirs? We have the heir to the former Steward of Gondor and the heir to the throne of Gondor. I don't see why I shouldn't be included."
"You were not invited, Luthor," Aragorn said.
"If I waited to be invited places, I wouldn't go anywhere." Lex made his way to Clark. "Hello, there. We meet again. Do you come to secret meetings in Rivendell often?"
Clark smiled widely. "Hi."
"Someone please fetch Luthor a chair," Elrond said with a sigh.
"No need. I'm sure Clark wouldn't mind if I sat in his lap."
"That would be great! I mean, that would be okay."
"Please will someone fetch Luthor a chair."
A chair was brought, which Lex insisted be placed next to Clark.
"I am simply grateful that he's fixated on Hobbits now instead of Elves," Legolas murmured.
"Or my brother," Boromir mumbled. In a louder voice, he added, "Are you even sure that one's a Hobbit? I thought Hobbits were halflings. He's taller than I am."
From where he sat, Clark heard Boromir's comment and shrugged. "I'm adopted."
At last Elrond was able to call the Council to order. However, after he explained to them that Clark had brought the One Ring and they'd decided to destroy it, the Council was once more thrown into chaos with everyone yelling at everyone else as to how to go about it.
"I'll do it!" Clark said.
Gandalf paused and looked at Clark.
"I'll do it," Clark repeated.
Elrond and the others stared at him.
"You'll journey to Mordor?"
Clark shook his head. "I didn't say that." He turned toward the shrubbery. "Sam, what do you think?" Clark then spun to face two columns. "Pippin? Merry? Do you have an opinion?"
The three Hobbits left their hiding spots and made their way to the Council, paying little heed to the looks they were receiving.
"There's no helping it, Master Clark," Sam said and the others nodded their agreement.
"Do it," said Merry. "If they don't like it... well, you're faster than they are. You can always run off."
Clark nodded. As the others watched, Clark picked up the ring from the podium, where it'd been placed, and stared at it intently. Red beams shot from his eyes.
His audience rose to their feet, questions on their lips, but Clark ignored them, continuing to focus his vision on the ring in his hand, which was glowing with heat. Slowly, the ring began to melt, becoming a pool of metal on his palm. Turning his hand over, Clark let the metal splatter to the ground, droplets spraying brightly.
Oaths and exclamations of wonder filled the air as the Men, Dwarves, and Elves realized what Clark had done.
"Dear God!" said Gandalf
"Merciful Lord in Heaven," exclaimed Boromir.
"Is anyone else horny right now?" Lex asked.
Clark grinned at Lex, and then looked at the others. "I told you I was adopted."
The End
Her fic made me think of how I might've written a crossover and what fandom I might have chosen. My fic isn't sexy. It has no redeemable value whatsoever. It's just plain silly.
The Most Unlikely Creature Imaginable
aka - How to Make a Really Long Story Short
"Frodo!"
"He's not here."
Gandalf spun and saw a huge man stooped almost in half to fit into the small home of a Hobbit. "What have you done with him?" Gandalf asked, staff at ready to blast the creature.
"I didn't do anything. Cousin Frodo decided to visit some relatives since I'm now old enough to stay on my own." The man studied Gandalf. "You must be the wizard he's told me about."
"And you are...?" Gandalf asked.
"I'm Clark. Frodo adopted me. He kept me hidden for a while but I think I got a bit too big for that."
Perhaps, Gandalf thought, this Clark might do in Frodo's stead.
"The ring! Does Frodo still have the ring?"
"You mean the one with the weird writing inside?"
Gandalf wondered how Clark knew about the writing, but ignored it. "Show it to me."
Clark retrieved the envelope the ring was kept in. Gandalf threw the envelope with the ring inside into the fire. When Clark moved forward to rescue it, Gandalf waved him aside and used tongs to bring it out of the fire himself.
The words inside the ring glowed.
"You know," Clark said, "if you'd told me that you wanted to heat up the ring, I could've-"
"No time for that now," Gandalf said. "This is the One Ring. The ring of Sauron that gives the bearer the power of invisibility and long life, but over time devours him."
Clark looked at Gandalf. "That's bad, right?"
Maybe Clark wouldn't do as substitute for Frodo, after all. Too bad Gandalf didn't have much choice. "You must take this ring to Rivendell," he told Clark.
"Okay. I'll just run it-"
"It will be a dark and dangerous journey. You must be careful. The Black Riders will be after you."
"It's not a problem. Really. I can run it over there in no-"
"Stay off the roads," Gandalf warned. "I'll meet you at the Prancing Pony in Bree. Don't trust anyone and be careful of the ring!"
Gandalf hurried out of the house, hoping he'd done the right thing in entrusting the ring's mission to this most un-Hobbitlike person.
* * *
"Sam?" Clark said, leaning out the window. "Did you hear that?"
Sam clambered over the windowsill, nodding. "That I did Master Clark."
"I don't know why I can't just run it over to Rivendell. I could be there, drop it off, then be back here by bedtime."
Sam shook his head to signal a similar lack of understanding. "I can't tell you that, Master Clark. There's no understanding wizards."
* * *
Clark sat at the table drinking milk at the Prancing Pony while Sam, sitting next to him, drank mead. Their journey had been fairly uneventful. Sam had packed up their supplies, mostly consisting of food for Clark, who had an appetite that a Hobbit could appreciate, and they'd set off.
Along the way, they'd met Pippin and Merry, who were always up for an adventure and had decided to join them.
It had been pretty obvious who the Black Riders were. Clark wondered what they were. They didn't look like meteor mutants. He'd dealt with enough Hobbit mutants to know the difference. The last one had been one of the Proudfoot cousins whose hair on his feet could crush boulders, a power of which he'd been quite proud.
Every time they'd encountered a Rider, Clark had simply picked up Sam, Merry, and Pippin and whooshed away.
"Gandalf's late," Clark said, as he set his mug of milk back onto the table.
Sam didn't say anything. They'd had that discussion half a dozen times already. In the meanwhile, Merry and Pippin were on the far side of the tavern, trying to out-drink several men. It looked as though they were succeeding.
"It might do well for us to keep a low profile, Master Clark. I, for one, don't like the looks you're getting from that stranger over there."
"You mean the hooded one? He seems harmless."
"Not that one. The bald man. The way he looks at you is downright obscene, if you don't mind me saying so."
Clark turned and saw the man whom Sam had mentioned. The stranger was slim, bald, and was, indeed, eyeing Clark in a manner that made Clark blush.
"Maybe I should go see what he wants," Clark said, rising to his feet.
"Pretty obvious what he wants," Sam grumbled.
Clark gave Sam a small grin, and then made his way through the tavern. When he passed the hooded man, who he knew was watching him, he didn't pause, but continued on until he reached the stranger that Sam had pointed out.
"Hi. Can I sit down?"
"Please, be my guest." The man indicated the chair across from the table him.
"I noticed you watching me."
"You're eminently watchable. It's not often one sees a man in the company of three Hobbits. I thought I was the only one with that particular fantasy."
Clark felt disappointed. He'd been thinking the man had been watching for an entirely different reason other than a curiosity about Hobbits. "I'm a Hobbit, too," he told him. "My name's Clark Baggins."
"And I'm Lex Luthor." He glanced over at Merry and Pippin, then back at Clark. "I hadn't realized that Hobbits grew to such heights."
"I'm adopted," Clark said. He would've said more, but he felt a hand come down on his shoulder and turned to see who it was. It was the hooded stranger who was glaring at Lex.
"This one is under my protection. You Luthors may be known for taking that which does not belong to you, but Mister Baggins shall not be one of them."
"Still touchy about my father taking over Gondor, I see." Lex looked pointedly at the man's hand on Clark. "I didn't know your taste had changed so dramatically, Aragorn. I do hope someone has informed that little elf girlfriend of yours."
"Do not attribute to me your thoughts and motives."
Lex got to his feet. "I'll take my leave, then." Raising his hand, he ran a finger down Clark's cheek, then under his chin, tipping it up slightly. "Until next time," he purred.
As he walked away, Clark watched avidly, giving in to the temptation to use his special power of vision.
"He doesn't have a single hair on him, does he?" Clark sighed.
"That is the legend," Aragorn said, taking Lex's seat. He studied Clark for a moment. "How did you know?'
Clark flushed. "Lucky guess?"
* * *
Something was going on with the Hobbits, Aragorn thought. Especially that tall one.
Aragorn believed Clark was habitually lying to him, but he had no idea about exactly what. There had been the incident in Bree with Luthor. Now, here they were on Weathertop and he was lying again.
He'd left the Hobbits to themselves and they'd foolishly made a fire. Racing back to them, he'd been halfway up the side of the hill when Riders began falling past him. Some of them were aflame.
Reaching the top, he strode toward the Hobbits. "Tell me what happened."
"Whatever do you mean?" Merry asked. "We've had ourselves a small meal, that's all."
"Would you like some?" Pippin offered. "Sam made a fine stew. It will fill and warm you."
Aragorn tried not to yell. His words came out in a low growl instead. "Do you take me for a fool? As I climbed back up here, Riders were tumbling down like blossoms from a tree in spring."
"Oh, you mean that." Merry turned to Pippin. "He wasn't talking about the stew, Pippin."
"Well, it is a very fine stew," Pippin replied.
Before Aragorn could tear them into littler pieces than they were, Sam stepped forward. "We don't rightly know what happened. We were eating when them Riders showed up. Got right next to the fire, they did. Then, a wind swept down. Like the hand of God, it was, and sent them over the side."
"A wind," Aragorn repeated.
"It was a miracle," Sam said. Pippin and Merry nodded their agreement.
Behind the three of them, Clark stood silent.
Aragorn pushed past the small Hobbits to stand in front of Clark. "And what say you?" he asked. Behind him, he could almost feel the tension in the other Hobbits rise.
"It was the wind," Clark said.
The boy was lying. They all were lying.
Aragorn decided he'd much rather deal with Orcs than Hobbits. At least Orcs you could kill without angering a wizard.
* * *
"Described what happened at the river," Gandalf asked Aragorn.
"To tell the truth," Aragorn said, "I don't really know. The Riders were upon us and the next thing I knew, the Hobbits had disappeared. I searched for them to no avail. Then, as the Riders were closing in on me, it was as if the very forest began to attack them. Rocks flew at them. The trees became uprooted and fell upon them. When I reached the river, I spied all four Hobbits waiting for me on the far shore, though how they came to be there, I know not."
"Curious," Gandalf said.
Aragorn nodded. "I have never seen it's like in this world before."
* * *
Clark sat in his chair as Elrond called the Council to order. Elrond opened his mouth to begin his speech when in sauntered Lex Luthor.
The one called Boromir stood. "What are you doing here, usurper?"
"Technically, my father's the usurper. I am merely the heir to the usurper. And isn't this a meeting of heirs? We have the heir to the former Steward of Gondor and the heir to the throne of Gondor. I don't see why I shouldn't be included."
"You were not invited, Luthor," Aragorn said.
"If I waited to be invited places, I wouldn't go anywhere." Lex made his way to Clark. "Hello, there. We meet again. Do you come to secret meetings in Rivendell often?"
Clark smiled widely. "Hi."
"Someone please fetch Luthor a chair," Elrond said with a sigh.
"No need. I'm sure Clark wouldn't mind if I sat in his lap."
"That would be great! I mean, that would be okay."
"Please will someone fetch Luthor a chair."
A chair was brought, which Lex insisted be placed next to Clark.
"I am simply grateful that he's fixated on Hobbits now instead of Elves," Legolas murmured.
"Or my brother," Boromir mumbled. In a louder voice, he added, "Are you even sure that one's a Hobbit? I thought Hobbits were halflings. He's taller than I am."
From where he sat, Clark heard Boromir's comment and shrugged. "I'm adopted."
At last Elrond was able to call the Council to order. However, after he explained to them that Clark had brought the One Ring and they'd decided to destroy it, the Council was once more thrown into chaos with everyone yelling at everyone else as to how to go about it.
"I'll do it!" Clark said.
Gandalf paused and looked at Clark.
"I'll do it," Clark repeated.
Elrond and the others stared at him.
"You'll journey to Mordor?"
Clark shook his head. "I didn't say that." He turned toward the shrubbery. "Sam, what do you think?" Clark then spun to face two columns. "Pippin? Merry? Do you have an opinion?"
The three Hobbits left their hiding spots and made their way to the Council, paying little heed to the looks they were receiving.
"There's no helping it, Master Clark," Sam said and the others nodded their agreement.
"Do it," said Merry. "If they don't like it... well, you're faster than they are. You can always run off."
Clark nodded. As the others watched, Clark picked up the ring from the podium, where it'd been placed, and stared at it intently. Red beams shot from his eyes.
His audience rose to their feet, questions on their lips, but Clark ignored them, continuing to focus his vision on the ring in his hand, which was glowing with heat. Slowly, the ring began to melt, becoming a pool of metal on his palm. Turning his hand over, Clark let the metal splatter to the ground, droplets spraying brightly.
Oaths and exclamations of wonder filled the air as the Men, Dwarves, and Elves realized what Clark had done.
"Dear God!" said Gandalf
"Merciful Lord in Heaven," exclaimed Boromir.
"Is anyone else horny right now?" Lex asked.
Clark grinned at Lex, and then looked at the others. "I told you I was adopted."
The End