A/N: The following is the result of two random and often frightening minds getting together. This happens a few times a week, and most of those times an adventure will result. Here is one such adventure. We do not own any of the characters, except Siarl and Hainor, and Jo and Lisa, since those are the Code Names for the authors. Written with the influence of Vintage Blue. Go check out her site! And now, on with the show...

Aragorn Get's Brainwashed
Chapter 1.2232 : It's The Rugs' And Siarl's Fault

It was a wonderfully bright, cheerful day, when Jo found herself in Gondor. Bird sang, the sun smiled, and somewhere large speakers where playing wonderful bluegrass music. Jo heaved a happy sigh and could almost forget where the music came from (better left unsaid in this tale), or who lurked within the palace-building-thing-which-was-blaring-white-against-her-unprotected-eyes.

Suddenly, a well-known Steward, who is called Denny by all who fear him, appeared beside her, muttering, "Rugsrugsrugs." (Said Steward has an obsession with rugs, and often forces his wonderful younger son to slave for the floor décor.)

Jo jumped and screamed.

Denny ignored the scream and informed her of the following fact: "Did you know that 9.984572 of rugs have nightmares about CERTAIN unwanted sons?" (Denny has a grudge against the Wonderful Younger Son, due to the fact that WYS tends to "kill" his rugs. How he does that, none of us know.)

"Oh gee," groaned Jo.

Nodding, Denny continued, "Yup, this is a bad dilemma. We must see to it that all rugs are safe—but, then again, we don't want to… get on the bad sides of people about putting a certain son… out of commission." (Half the city, and some fans, too, would devour Denny if he dared to kill the Wonderful Younger Son.)

Jo made an irritated sound. She had been through this before. Many times. And it normally did not end well.

"But I think," Denny proclaimed, "for the rugs around the world's safety, we should choose the latter." (i.e. punish the Wonderful Son)

"Why don't we put the annoying psycho Steward out of commission?" Jo asked the sky.

"I never heard of one," Denny said, and wondered why Jo insisted on talking to clouds. "But I do think we should take this crime into the light of justice and punish the criminal."

Jo snorted. Denny called up his councilors. Then, in a yell that would wake the Great Eye from its midmorning nap, Denny shouted, "FARAMIR, COME HERE NOW, PLEASE."

"Yoi," muttered the Wonderful Younger Son, who we now know is Faramir. He came obediently to his father.

"Thank you for coming the first call. It is a small improvement."

Faramir proceeded to roll his eyes and wonder why he couldn't have gone to Rivendell and let his older, not so wonderful brother deal with their crazy dad. But on second thought, he figured he didn't wish that, because Bor was just about as bad as their father in many areas.

"But THAT is not needed, young man. You still need to practice respect."

"Respect?" Jo choked. "To YOU?" She then died laughing.

Denny glared at her (she wasn't really dead). "You could use some work, too."

"Really."

"Yes." He waved his hand. "But we're not here to discuss your manners, Faramir and Jo." He raised his voice so the councilors could here. "The reason I called you all here is to punish that which is causing disturbance and discomfort for some of our most important citizens."

"What?" Faramir blinked twice.

Denny ignored him. "This guy—" he waved at Far—"has been tormenting those who we hold in high honor."

"The RUGS are held in HIGH HONOR?" Jo cried.

Denny was good at ignoring. "I propose that these actions be punished, immediately." All the councilors, who knew of their lord's tilt in the head, were quick to agree. "The normal punishment is…" Denny paused to consider, "…to be lowered in rank, and to be held in the dungeon with limited food for a week."

"WHAT?" Faramir cried.

Everyone applauded, except one meek councilor. But Denny gave him a glare that would have melted the One Ring, and the councilor quickly agreed that the punishment was perfect. Motioning to two guards, Denny had Faramir dragged away.

Jo followed Faramir to his cell, were he was to be beaten before locked up for the week. Lisa, her good friend who always joins in their crazy adventures, appeared to comfort her soon into the torture.

It was a very long time before Faramir stumbled out (why exactly he was allowed to leave his cell, we are not sure). He fell into a heap at their feet, and both girls ran to him, despite the guards who tried to stop them. Faramir was in extreme pain and cried out for a blond girl several times (the reason is unknown). The girls rummaged in their backpacks for something that would help.

"I have an Eowyn bobble-head!" Lisa announced.

Jo said that probably wouldn't help and produced a portal. Portal: A device for traveling long distances in a matter of seconds. They come in many different shapes and sizes. The one in this story looks like a remote and talks to you. But it generally only cooperates if it is fed chocolate.

"Where should we take him?" Lisa asked.

"Um, home? McDonalds?" Jo suggested.

"MCDONALDS?" Lisa tried not to gag. "I think home would be better. My house or yours?"

"Yours. Eowyn's probably cooking at my house, and it'd be bad if that was Far's first introduction to her."

Lisa made a face and agreed. She gave the portal chocolate and directions to her house. The guards looked uneasily at each other and wondered why a girl was talking to a stick. Once the portal was satisfied, Lisa jabbed the GO button, and the next thing they knew they were seated in her livingroom.

"Did we make it?" Jo asked, panting. Portals have a way of dropping you where you don't want to go.

"Yes!" Lisa announced, looking relieved. "Thank goodness."

"Hey, there you are!" said a familiar and annoying voice. "My chess set came today!"

Jo made an extremely irritated sound and banged her head on the coffee-table. The voice belonged to none other than Lisa's infamous character, Siarl, who happened to be obsessed with chess and who was known for causing bad luck.

"Blast you, Siarl!" Lisa explained. "Can't you see he's wounded?" She motioned toward Faramir.

"Yeah, really," Jo put in.

"So… Am I supposed to do anything about this…wounded guy?"

Jo looked confused. "Um, I dunno… What DOES one do with wounded people? Is anyone here a healer?"

Siarl jumped in. "What about that Aragorn character?" Siarl had met with him once or twice before, and they got along well enough, which is cause for fear. "Could he help?

"SIARL, YOU'RE A GENIUS!" Jo exclaimed. (She later came to regret it.)

"Really? Cool!"

Jo slapped her forehead. "Why didn't I think of that? I was just talking about the Houses…"

"Let's get him, and quick!" Lisa shouted. "Should we just call 'im, or use the portal?"

The girls pondered a minute. Siarl looked from one to the other and then cleared his throat. "You could let me go and get him."

"Okay," said Jo. Little did she know what she had just agreed to.