Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters or the various movies/books I stole them from.

A/N: This story was originally published in March of 2004. I'd like to think that I've grown at least a little as a writer between the ages of 25 and 30. And upon reviewing this story (particularly the early chapters) I felt I should tweak and polish it. I have removed the original story, faithfully copying and pasting every review I received on it and saving it to a flash drive. That was the hardest part of taking the story down…removing those reviews. But I felt that taking the original story down was necessary. And the reviews are safe, sound, and being thoroughly cherished.

Special thanks to Dreamstrifer, whose re-working of her much beloved story 'The Fresca Files' inspired me to do the same with this one.

Hope you enjoy!

Minas Tirith: the official chambers of King Elessar and Queen Arwen

"Estel!"

Arwen pushed through the crowd of healers that surrounded the King of Gondor, anxious to reach her husband's side. She grasped her hand in his and the contact made him turn his head towards her. He attempted a smile, but as he looked up at her, his grey eyes filled with pain and Arwen could already see that he was badly injured. She knew this hunt had been a bad idea. But Aragorn had been so set on the idea of some time with 'just the guys' that she hadn't had the heart to fight him on it. Besides, it was just a hunt. What harm ever came from going on a simple hunt?

"Faramir, tell me what happened," she said, barely casting a glance towards her friend as she attempted to soothe Aragorn. She felt the Steward place a hand on her shoulder and was grateful for his gesture of comfort.

"It was quite unexpected, my queen," Faramir began. "A very tragic accident."

"Accident?" Arwen turned her full attention on Faramir now. He gulped a little, not wanting to finish the story. But, he reasoned, it was better that the queen hear it from him than from someone else in the court. Glancing around the room, he decided the conversation would be much easier in private.

"Perhaps we could discuss this in another room, your Majesty? It might make it easier for the healers to do their work."

Arwen started to protest, but realized that she would be of no help to the healers. They had already begun to strip Aragorn of his clothing to get a better look at the wound. Nodding, she led Faramir across the hall into her own private rooms. Before he shut the door behind them, however, she heard one of the healers speak.

"Looks as if the arrow went clean through. That could be a good thing."

"The arrow?" she echoed, her eyes meeting Faramir's questioningly. She had thought Aragorn was attacked by some sort of animal. It had been the most logical conclusion.

"Queen Arwen, there are…special circumstances surrounding King Elessar's wound," Faramir knew he was simply stalling. The armies of Mordor he could face. The wrath of his Elven queen was something else entirely.

"Do not mince words with me, Faramir," Arwen cut in, the tone of her voice matching the sudden iciness of her eyes. "I would have you tell me what has happened to my husband."

Faramir fought back a wince at the slight rebuke, wondering not for the first time how it was possible for someone so innately gentle and kind to possess the ability to stab at a man's heart with only her words.

"We had split up. Your husband had suggested a contest. Whoever brought home the most meat was the winner. And the winner received..."

He was stalling again. Arwen held up her hand, cutting him off.

"Faramir," she began, willing herself to be patient. "I am not interested in the contest nor am I interested in the prize. It is enough to know that you split up."

"Yes, my queen. I apologize," a nod of acceptance reassured Faramir and he went on. "Well, it seems that Prince Legolas was on his way to Minas Tirith to visit with you and the king. Master Gimli was with him as well. They had decided to stop and make camp for the evening, but they needed some fresh meat and so Prince Legolas went on a hunt."

"Is this going anywhere, Faramir?" Arwen inquired, running out of patience with her friend.

"Yes, it is. Prince Legolas saw movement in a large bush and let his arrow fly. The cry of pain that followed assured him that he had not shot an animal. Queen Arwen, your husband was shot through the chest by Prince Legolas."

Arwen stared at Faramir, shocked beyond speech. Legolas? It couldn't be. Rage filled her as she thought of the Elf. How many times had he been with her husband and been unable to protect him or been the direct cause of his injuries? This was too much. No more.

She opened her mouth to speak, but another thought hit her. Legolas was an Elf. Not only that, but he was a warrior. It was child's play for an Elf such as him to track and kill an animal. And Legolas was not the type to aim his arrows at just anything that made noise. Besides, if anyone could sense her husband's presence besides her, it was Legolas. None of this made any sense.

'Exactly' said a little voice in Arwen's head. 'None of this makes any sense. So what conclusion does that bring you to?'

"Oh, no. Not again," groaned Arwen. She sighed and rolled her eyes before leaning against the wall in a decidedly un-elflike manner. Faramir observed her, baffled. This reaction was not what he expected.

"Are you alright, Arwen?" he asked, venturing to return to the informal way they usually addressed each other.

"I'm fine, I suppose. No, I'm not fine. I'm very tired. Tired and exasperated and frustrated and..." she trailed off, noticing the confusion on Faramir's face. "Never mind. Where is Legolas right now, Faramir?"

The commotion in the hall outside answered her question before he could. Arwen and Faramir ran out into the corridor where their eyes met a very interesting sight.

Legolas Greenleaf, Prince of Mirkwood, was barreling down the hallway, fighting off guards right and left. Gimli was behind him, looking thoroughly apologetic for his friend's behavior. Four guards managed to grab Legolas at once and restrain him somewhat.

"Let me through!" yelled the Elf. "I must see him! I must make sure he will be alright! Let me through!"

"Guards, release Prince Legolas at once!" commanded Arwen. The guards complied and Legolas, through the haze of his worry and anger, singled out Arwen's voice and began to calm down.

"Arwen, I am so sorry. I should have known. Have you seen him? Will he live?"

Arwen regarded her friend of centuries with an odd expression of detachment. She was so very tired. Sighing, she nodded slowly.

"I have seen him, Legolas. And, yes, he will live."

Faramir looked at Arwen in surprise. She made her last statement as fact, not as a belief.

"May I see him?"

"Of course, Legolas. Follow me."

The group made their way into the room where Aragorn lay on his bed. The healers had already bandaged the wound and were already working on herbal mixtures to speed the healing. They weren't quite sure if King Elessar would live. Arwen made her way to the bedside and took Aragorn's hand in hers. He looked at her and once again attempted a smile.

"Undomiel.." he began, but Arwen cut him off.

"Don't speak, meleth nin," she said, dropping a kiss just above his eyebrow. "You need your strength. I have brought you a visitor."

Aragorn's eyes widened a bit when he first saw Legolas. Then they narrowed and he turned his head away from his friend. Legolas stepped forward, determined that Aragorn would speak to him.

"Estel, I am sorry. These must seem like weak words, indeed, considering what I have done. I would never intentionally harm you, mellon nin. Please, please forgive me."

Aragorn remained as he was, not even acknowledging the presence of Legolas, who grew more distraught by the minute. Even Gimli and Arwen, the two people in the room who knew him best, were alarmed at the emotion he began to display.

"Please, please, mellon nin. Say I am forgiven. I could not live without your friendship."

Legolas went on like this for a bit before finally dropping to his knees at the side of the bed, his eyes filled to the brim with tears. Gimli muttered a few things about 'pointy-eared princelings' and tried to ignore the whole embarrassing scene. After watching Legolas for a few more moments, Arwen turned to Faramir.

"I have urgent business to attend to, Faramir. Will you summon your wife to meet with me in the gardens in ten minutes?"

Faramir who, by now, was in a perpetual state of confusion, could do nothing but nod his head. Satisfied, Arwen turned and left the room.

''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''Ten minutes later – Private Gardens of Queen Arwen

"You sent for me, Arwen?"

Arwen turned to her friend, whose expression was a mixture of concern and puzzlement. She smiled warmly at the Lady of Ithilien and indicated a nearby stone bench. The two women sat down together.

"It's happening again, Eowyn," she said, unable to keep the edge out of her voice.

"What's happening?"

"You know what I mean. Aragorn's brush with death, Legolas/Faramir/Gimli's overwhelming guilt. The incident that nearly ruins their friendship."

"Oh, that."

Eowyn's voice was flat.

"And everything was going so well, too," Arwen lamented. "Eowyn, what are we going to do?"

"I understand how you feel, Arwen," her friend reassured her. "Faramir isn't quite as bad as Aragorn, of course, but there are still times when I could just scream."

"I just don't know what to do. If Aragorn isn't mortally wounded or if he hasn't lost one of his closest friends due to tragedy, he's 'discovering new feelings' for someone. The last time was a month ago. Do you know he almost left me for Legolas?"

"No!"

"Yes. And the month before that it was you!"

"Are you serious?"

"Dead serious. I even had to deal with him confessing his undying love for Frodo once. It was very strange. But I think the worst ones, the only ones that really hurt, are when these strange, exotically beautiful girls start showing up and he falls in love with them instantly. Then, just as suddenly, they disappear."

"Now I have had a few of those," admitted Eowyn. "And all of them disappear just as quickly as you describe."

"It's those fanfic authors," Arwen's voice took on a dangerous tone. It was as close to growling as an Elf could possibly get. "Grandmother warned me about them before she left for Valinor, but I didn't pay any attention to her. She's always and forever talking about the 'doom of man' or the 'end of Middle Earth'."

"What is a fanfic?" asked Eowyn, clearly perplexed.

"Well, the way Grandmother explained it to me is this. Apparently, there is another world besides Middle Earth. Now, while we may know nothing about their world, they know all about ours. Grandmother said our lives were written down by a man and the people in the other world think he made it all up. But they love to read about us. She also said that his books were made into something called a 'motion picture'. There are thousands of girls all over that world who are in love with our husbands and their friends. From what I understand, Legolas is the most popular one of all."

"That hardly seems fair," Eowyn said, feeling the need to defend her husband, whom she considered much better looking than Legolas. Arwen rolled her eyes slightly.

"I understand how you feel, Eowyn, but that is not the point I'm trying to make. Quite a few of these stories are harmless. They affect us not at all. But some of them are so well written, so descriptive, that they capture the very essence of our characters. It is the authors of this stories that are to be feared. Their imaginations play havoc with our world. I know they don't mean any harm. After all, they think we're just a figment of someone else's imagination. But they don't realize how truly talented they are nor do they realize that we truly do exist."

Both women were silent for a little while as they pondered this new threat to their world. Orcs could be beaten with swords and bows. Ringwraiths could be held at bay with Elven magic. But what could possibly defeat this unknown enemy?

"Well, then, what do we do?" Eowyn finally asked

"I don't know, Eowyn," Arwen shook her head as her mind raced with possible ways to fight this evil. "But something must be done quickly. And I'm going to fix this before it gets out of hand."

A/N: Well, that's all. Like it? Hate it? Please don't flame me. This is my first attempt at Lord of the Rings fanfic and at blatant humor. Please! Give me feedback!

Another special shout-out: To all those who reviewed the original story. I tried to compile a list of everyone, but I may have left someone out….

Mata, Mathilde, Mercury Gray, LadyDeb1970, Star-Stallion, Nuklear Firefly, Ciel-Undomiel, Estel-Rules, Naoko, The Last Evenstar, Silver Nemesis, Julia, A.E. Hall, Athena Diagon Cat, Dernhelm, Feawen Minyatur, Eleanor Rigbey, irish babe, Morrwen, Dreaming n Watercolors, Angoliel, kelinor, nephthys5, Roisin Dubh, Violet, Caboose, Amara, Rem-chan, Astievia, Undead, Minion of the, XNemesis, Book-addict, Belphegor, Dreamstrifer, Nyltiak, The Woods Witch, Idril Falastari, Cotume of Doriath, Delta Queen, Sache8, shie1dmaidenofrohan, SwordSwallower17, technetium, Elf Eye, lindahoyland, Minion of Sekhmet, Smoltenica, ShadowDemoness413, Lilybet, Kapri of the Kanohi Menai, iHedge, fireboltcrazed