Aah! It's been sooo long! What was it, 7/29 when we last updated? We really do apologize for the long wait. It was making me antsy, too! A little note of clarification: when the print goes into italics, that indicates a thought. Plus, the lines separating parts are for some strange reason not working, so I bolded (as always) the PoVs and put extra spaces before the beginning and after the end! Please review! We really need the motivation! --The Editor

Disclaimer: The places and characters mentioned in this fanfiction are the property of the estate of J.R.R. Tolkien. We own nothing, except for Mandy, Kelsey and Nicole.

A Democracy Deficient Country

Kelsey's PoV

"Wha' yo' wan'?" I rolled over as someone shook me. "Thirty more minutes, Daddy."

"Kelsey, we must move. The Orcs have not rested this night," Aragorn whispered.

"Okay, Daddy." I snuggled into my blanket. "Goodnight."

"Just leave them, Aragorn," Gimli suggested. "They slow us down."

"Goooooooood Mooorrrrning!" Mandy yelled in my ear. "Up gets KelKel! Up, up, up!"

"And they would betray all secrecy," Gimli added.

"We cannot leave the ladies," Legolas explained. "They are under our protection."

"I'm up!" I rubbed the sleep from my eyes. "Pop Tarts anyone?" I opened a package of Pop Tarts and munched sleepily. "Toast?"

"We must move!" Legolas told me with no small hint of vehemence.

"Okay, okay. Geez, Mr. Grumpy-Gills." I tossed Mandy a Pop Tart. "Eat. Breakfast is the most important meal of the day."

Legolas, Gimli and Aragorn grudgingly ate their Pop Tarts (A/N: Funny sight, eh? Seeing these three titans eating Pop Tarts in the company of two idiot girls?). And then we ran. It was actually kind of fun once you got used to it. Yesterday had been horrible; today was better. Sleep and getting used to this sort of exercise helped. Mandy and I bounded from side to side of the bent, grassy "trail," skipping over discarded items and rolling downhill when there were, in fact, hills.

"This is so much fun!" Mandy yelled, trampling the grass underfoot. Then she stopped. "Hey, I wonder if you can eat this stuff." She reached for some grass—

"Mandy!" I yelled, sending some birds flying. "Use your brain. Is grass edible?"

"Well . . ."

"By people?"

"No."

"Then don't eat it!"

"Okay!" She skipped on.

Mandy's PoV

"Run, run, run as fast as you can! You can't catch me, I'm the Elf wo-man!" I chanted. "Gosh, I wish I did this more often!"

"Someday, when there is peace, we will run cross-country," Kelsey called. "Every year in spring for the fun of it."

"Yeah! Annual Rohan Runs!"

"Mandy, we could have T-shirts!"

"Water bottles!"

"Prizes!"

"Yeah!"

"The Fun Run of Middle-earth!"

"Since when has running been fun?" I queried.

"I have absolutely no idea."

The ground got harder and the grass shorter. Everything at that point was shorter/slower/smaller, except the temperature, which seemed to have risen several degrees.

"Why is it so darn hot?" I asked Aragorn, since he seemed to know something about this place.

He didn't know what "darn" meant but seemed to get the gist of what I was asking. "Rohan is prone to abrupt seasonal changes. It could be freezing and sunny with the grass dying one minute and by the next, storms pile up and then waves of heat envelop the land."

"So it's sort of like West Texas.?"

"Where is West Texas?"

"Uh . . ." I was at a loss. Where was West Texas . . . In fact, where was the United States from here?

"It is a place in a book," Kelsey filled in.

"Oh."

"But—"

"Shh, Mandy."

And we ran on. After awhile, I began to notice how quite it was. There weren't even any insects buzzing around our sweaty bodies—prime bug food, we were, mind you.

"Ya know," I told Kelsey, "we're the only ones making any noise. There isn't even a wind in the grass."

"Weird."

"I know. It's so quiet."

"No, Mandy, I meant you talking poetically."

Kelsey's PoV

We halted at dusk.

"Now do I most grudge a time of rest. The orcs have run before us, as if the very whips of Sauron were behind them," Legolas whispered. "I fear they have already reached the forest and the dark hills and even now are passing into the shadows of the trees."

Gimli sighed. "This is a bitter end to our hope and all our toil."

"To hope, maybe, but not to toil."

"There's always hope, Ada," I soothed. Aragorn smiled.

"Yet I am weary. Weary as I have seldom been before; weary as no Ranger should with a clear trail to follow. There is something strange at work here. Some evil that gives speed to these creatures and sets its will against us."

"That's why it seems like we've been going in circles!" Mandy exclaimed.

"Truly, there is some barrier," Legolas agreed. "But it is before us and not behind." He pointed west.

"I knew it!" Mandy proclaimed. "The Valar hate us!"

"Saruman!" Aragorn hissed.

"Nap time!"

"I spy . . . something green," Mandy giggled the next morning as we ran.

"Grass!"

"No! Leggy's brooch."

"Oh, fine. Go again."

"I spy something pointy-eared."

"Me?"

"No. Leggy!"

"Fine!"

"I spy someone blonde."

"Legolas?"

"Leggy! That's right!"

"Amazing. I never would have guessed."

"But you just—"

"I spy something brown!" I interrupted.

"Uh . . ."

"The horse pooey you're about to step in!"

Mandy didn't look down in time and, unfortunately, suffered the consequences. "Eew . . ."

"Let's play the ABC Game!" I decided. "I'll start! Aragorn lives anywhere and likes . . . action!"

"Boromir lives in a boat and likes battles!" Mandy continued, impressed by her own so-called "wit."

"Celeborn lives in Caras Galadhon and likes Cate Blanchette!"

"Denethor lives by Doom and likes to dress-up!"

"Eomer lives at Edoras and likes eoreds."

"Fangorn lives in a forest—"

"He is a forest!" I corrected.

"—and he likes forests."

"Gimli lives in the Glittering Caves and likes gems." I continued on to "," not giving Mandy a chance. "Haldir lives in a hethlain hut and likes happy, happy me!"

"Weird."

"Keep going."

"Uh . . . Illuvatar lives . . ."

"On ice?" I suggested.

"On ice and likes . . . infinite things."

"Works well enough. Are there any 'Js'?"

"I don't think so."

"Then I can do anyone. Julie lives in Japan and likes jokes."

"Koli lives in Khazad-dum and likes kangaroos."

"Do not dishonor the dead," Gimli seethed.

Mandy stole 'l.' "Legolas," he looked up on hearing his name, "lives in—"

"Lasgalen, Eryn," I prompted.

"and likes . . ." She was obviously trying to find a way to say herself so I helped once again.

"Lady—"

"What lady?"

"You."

"Lady You?"

"No, Lady Amanda! You, you idiot!"

"Oh."

By this time, night had fallen.

Mandy's PoV

I woke up to a noise like thunder. Sitting up, I saw a large group of moving horses all around us. Spears were lowered like a thicket so that none of us could move.

"Well, this is a bit annoying," Kelsey grumbled. "We slept late again!"

One guy rode forward, taller than the others on one of the horses, the black one, in fact, that we had ridden two or three days ago.

"Who are you and what are you doing in this land?" he demanded.

I stood up. "Well," the spears came closer. "What's your issue?"

"Are we to believe that—whoever you are—you bring women along in your travels, knowing the danger of being caught in a land that no traveler is permitted to enter without my lord's leave?"

"I am called Strider," Aragorn answered before Mandy could remark. "I come out of the North. We are hunting a party of Uruk-hai westward across the plane."

"Then you know little of orcs if you hunt them in this fashion. They were many and well-armed. You would have changed from hunters to prey—"

"You haven't seen Kelsey fight," I muttered.

"Are you elvish folk?" Eomer asked (we could only assume him to be Eomer; who else would he be?).

"Nay," Kelsey answered, "not all of us. Strider and Gimli the dwarf are mortal, but we have all passed through Lothlorien and the gifts and favor of the Lady go . . . well, with them. She didn't like Mandy much. She liked me well enough, though."

"Shut up, Kelsey!" Mandy growled, jabbing me in the ribs.

"OW!"

"Then there is a Lady. Well, if you have her favor you must be like her—sorcerers and net weavers."

"Kelsey is. She can do Galadriel Eyes."

Gimli straightened. "You speak evil of that which is fair beyond the reach of your though—"

"Gimli!" Kelsey reprimanded. "Don't act like a dumb blonde!" The spears thickened. "Hey! I'm blonde, too! I meant the stereotypical blondes! . . . Could you move the spears, buddy?"

A gesture from Eomer sent the spears into their locked and upright position.

"Okay," I began, "here's the thing—"

"Mandy, let Aragorn tell it!" Kelsey commanded. "Hey knows why the heck we're here anyway."

"But—"

"Shh." And thus she demonstrated Galadriel Eyes.

"I see what the tall blonde . . . Elf . . . meant by my not seeing the short one fight. She could kill many with a look like that," Eomer thought.

"Aragorn began his spiel. "First, tell me whom you serve. Are you a friend or foe of the dark lord?"

"I serve only the Lord of the Mark. We only desire to be free and live as we have. But who do you serve? At whose command do you hunt Orcs?"

"I serve no man," Aragorn answered, "but the servants of Sauron I pursue wherever they may go. There are few who know more of orcs than I, and I do not hunt them this way out of choice. The Orcs we pursue have captured two of our friends. In such a need, one will not count heads save with a sword. I am not weaponless!"

With that declaration, Aragorn drew his sword.

"Shiny!" I cried. "Sword-that-was-broken!"

"I am Aragorn, son of Arathorn, the heir of Isildur Elendil's son of Gondor. Will you aid me? Choose swiftly."

"Votes!" I called. "Let me see your votes. Favor . . . one, two . . ." The Riders timidly raised their hands, but it was obvious they had no clear notion of what I was asking.

"These are indeed strange days!" said Eomer. "Women who fight and create new terms. Legends sprung from grass!"

"Mandy!" Kelsey called as Eomer and Aragorn talked specifics. "They don't vote!"

"Why not?"

"Ask Theoden sometime."

"—We counted all the slain and despoiled them, as is our custom," Eomer explained to Aragorn.

"Well, at least they can count," I murmured. "Hey! Do you think they can do Algebra? I still need to do my homework for Algebra II."

The Riders drew off, and we turned to Aragorn and Eomer.

"All that you say is strange, Aragorn," Eomer said, "yet you speak the truth, that is plain. Men of the Mark do not lie and are not easily deceived." Kelsey coughed loudly. "But you have not told all."

Aragorn explained a bit of our journey. "Gandalf the Grey was our leader."

"Gandalf! He is known in the Mark, but his name is no longer a password to the King's favor. Few like him."

"Yet Nickel is still obsessed over that stick," I told him." Another of our companions holds him dear as a teacher and well, when he fell, she decided to stay in Lothlorien."

"I had not known about Nicole," Aragorn whispered. "Gandalf fell into darkness and comes not again."

"Ada," Kelsey stated, reaching up to his shoulder." I have the perfect birthday present for you."

Aragorn put his hand over hers. "We have traveled from the shadow of Tol Brandir, which we climbed and this is the fourth day of our journey."

"On foot?" Eomer asked incredulously.

"Yup," I told him proudly. "Major coffee products helped with that."

He looked confused and surprised at the same time—an interesting look, that. "Strider is too poor a name. Wingfoot I name you. Forty leagues and five you have measured ere the fourth day is ended."

"What about the rest of us? Don't we get cool names, too?" I whined.

"Oh, shut your face," Kelsey ordered. "Don't look so surprised, Eomer. You haven't tasted the most wonderful effects of coffee. Well, the caffeine seems to work on everyone but me."

"And women, too! Traveling so far. It is a wonder!"

"Well . . . steroids, man . . . from the coffee," I clarified. "Would you like some coffee? We were thinking of starting an annual marathon—Hey! Pay attention!"

The males and Kelsey looked at me a moment, then continued their conversation without me.

"Fine, then!"

Kelsey's PoV

"It is hard to be sure of anything among so many marvels," Eomer spoke. "Elves and a Dwarf walk in company on our fields, the Sword returns—"

"Yeah, since when has that Sword had a life of its own to come and go?" Mandy asked.

"—Fold speak with the Lady of the Wood and yet live—"

"That wasn't difficult," I told him. "Especially if you're her little protégé like me!"

"—How shall one judge in such times?"

"Uh . . . by a jury?" Mandy suggested. I whacked her on the shoulder.

"—I will lend you horses. Only when your quest is achieved, or proved futile, return them to Edoras and prove I have not judged ill. Do not fail."

"We will not," Aragorn replied.

"There are only three horses rider less," Eomer told us, "but the women are small and may ride with us to Meduseld and there shall be safe."

"We'll just double up. Gimli can't ride anyway," I jut in forcefully. No way we were going to Edoras and miss out on the fun!

"These horses escaped awhile back and have only recently been found—as we set out, in fact. Be wary!" Eomer warned/

When the horses were brought to us, they turned out to be three of the ones we'd had before. Coolio.

"Farewell!" Eomer called as we mounted and they rode away.

Mandy sat behind me, fiddling with my bag as we rode. After a time, I saw a long string with a hook attached flying toward the horse in front of us—Legolas and Gimli's horse.

"Fishing for Elves, Mandy?" I asked and, grabbing some scissors, snipped the string.

Mandy didn't answer. Instead, after some muttering, another string flew forward. I cute that one, too. And the next. And the next. And so on and so forth.

"Stupid fishin' line!" Mandy yelled. "Keeps breaking! Aarggg!"

"Breathe deeply, Mandy," I advised, suppressing my laughter as we rode up to the forest's eaves.

I'm SOOOOOOOOOOOOO sorry it took so long! Our lives have been caught in a whirwind, and I barely had time to type this up. It was very long, so I hope y'all enjoyed it! Please do review and don't give up hope on us! I'll try to have the next one sooner, but I can't guarantee anything! --The Editor