Chapter IV – To the Ford

"Okay, okay, I know what to do," said Merry, trying to give the impression that he was desperately pulling a cloak of control over his distress. As previously mentioned, Merry was an abysmal actor, and therefore only succeeded in looking giddy. Fortunately, no one present besides Frodo could tell good acting from bad acting, and Frodo was too greatly under the influence of hallucinogens to notice.

"Alright, then," said Strider irritably. "What?"

"We'll send Frodo ahead on the pony and—."

"What pony?!"

"That pony," said Merry, pointing at Bill the Pony, who had just conveniently appeared. "What, you didn't know we had a pony?"

Sam crossed his arms. "You mean we had a pony all along and we had to carry all our haversacks here?"

"Uh..." said Merry. Another cue card lowered down in front of him, but no one else seemed to notice. "We don't have time for this! Frodo's fading fast. We'll send him on ahead with the pony and we'll follow along behind."

"Yeah," said Pippin. "Good idea, Merry."

"Not a good idea," Frodo countered, speech somewhat slurred. He had, by then, removed the Ring once more, which administered a slight counteraction to the hallucinogenic properties of the drug. (It was a very high tech prop, that Ring.) Instead, it left him feeling rather delirious and nauseous. "That pony can't go any faster than we can on foot. Besides, I can't ride in my condition."

"I'm beginning to think we picked the most inept specimens on this earth," said Elrond.

"Yeah," said Elrohir. "I don't think Aragorn's ranger friends have rubbed off on him much. Even the most basic healer would recognize the wound is fake, and that Frodo's only problem is hallucinogens. He could've counteracted the whole thing with a bit of athelas."

"And the fact that Aragorn hasn't learned a thing about woodcraft surprises you?"

"No. No, not really."

"Okay, well, looks like we're going to have to bail them out yet again." Elrond shook his head in disbelief. "Let's send Arwen. She'll expedite the process of getting them to Rivendell. Put the casting director on finding a couple of guys with legitimate navigational, scouting, fire building, and healing abilities, Elladan. Once the group sets out again after the council meeting, I don't want to have to deal with this anymore."

Meanwhile, the unfortunate company was still discussing what was to be done.

"You don't have a choice, Frodo," Merry persisted. "Since 'Mister Ranger' here can't do a blooming thing for you, you'll just have to-"

"Something wrong, boys?" said a soothing female voice.

"Arwen, my love!" Strider exulted. "What're you doing here? I had this under control, really I did."

"I'm sure," said Arwen, inwardly rolling her eyes. She twirled her raven black hair around her finger and strutted around the bewildered hobbits. Clearly, she enjoyed playing for the hidden cameras. "Well," she said, finally, "it just so happens that I was riding this way, looking for males in distress, and here you all were. Estel, why don't I take your injured halfling back to Rivendell with me, save you some time?"

"Well," said Strider, not wanting to seem as though he were completely out of viable options (which he was). "I don't know. Maybe I should go instead."

"Not a chance, Estel," said Arwen. "You aren't going to get all the glory here; you should've seen what I had to go through to borrow Asfoloth from Glorfindel."

"Fine, my love," said Strider, defeated. "But be careful."

Arwen laughed a tingly laugh like a bell. "You be careful." She picked up Frodo, gingerly enough, for her part, and put him on the proud white stallion. Then she mounted up behind him and spurred the horse on.

Sam, Merry, Pippin, and Strider watched her go. "Well, that's that," said Strider.

"Now what do we do?" said Sam.

"What's that?!" said Merry, pointing off into the distance.

Aragorn squinted, looking off where Merry had indicated. "Hmm... looks like a light."

"Yeah," said Merry. "Let's follow it!"

"What?" said Sam, aghast. "No way. Uh uh. What if it's a trap?"

"Consult the map, Strider," said Merry, winking at Pippin.

Strider pulled out the map again and studied it for several minutes. "Aha!" he said triumphantly. "Here it is. 'If you see any lights in the distance, follow them. These are magic fairy lights that will lead you to your destination.' Excellent!"

"Great, let's go!"

So Strider, Sam, Merry, and Pippin doggedly followed the strange light throughout most of the night, collapsing from exhaustion in the middle of nowhere at roughly four in the morning.

"Milord, they're about another day from Rivendell. They're sleeping now."

"Good," mumbled Elrond, rousing from a very satisfying sleep. He sat up slowly. "When they wake up, continue leading them on with breadcrumbs. The map calls them 'fairy crumbs.'"

"Fairy crumbs, milord?"

"Yes, fairy crumbs. Put 'fairy' in front of anything and people throw all caution to the wind."

The next morning, Frodo and Arwen had nearly reached the Ford of Bruinen. Frodo was still conscious, but feeling rather trippy. Also, he was nauseous, and he kept dry heaving. Arwen noticed this.

"If you ruin the upholstery, so help me…" she muttered.

Just then, the Black Riders came out of nowhere, in hot pursuit. They'd actually been waiting for quite a while by then, so they were rather gung ho when their quarry was finally sighted.

"Slow down, you idiots, slow down!" the sequence coordinator had to hiss in the hidden microphones in their ears when they came dangerously close to outstripping Arwen and her exhausted steed.

The Nazgûl and their horses obediently slowed down.

"Those Black Riders almost had us a moment ago," mused Frodo to no one in particular. "Why'd they slow?"

Arwen rolled her eyes. "It's elf magic, stupid hobbit," she hissed. "I just hit 'em with my special elf force field when they got too close."

"Is that patented?" asked Frodo.

He received a grunt in response.

Arwen spurred Asfoloth down to the ford, the horse's hooves clattering crisply over the smooth river rocks. The Black Riders had maintained a very uniform space behind up till now.

"This is going to be so epic," said Arwen softly. She urged the horse across the shallow expanse, then turned about on the other side to face the "enemy," drawing her scimitar with a bright ring. (Well, technically, swords don't actually ring when drawn; this sound effect was added in post production to up the dramatic tension.)

"Give up the halfling, she-elf!" demanded one of the Black Riders on the far side of the ford.

"Not on your life, bedsheet wearer," snarked Arwen.

Her hidden microphone chirped angrily, "That wasn't the line!"

"Oh, shut up," she muttered. "Mine was awesome, and you know it."

"Who're you talking to?" asked Frodo, somewhat concerned.

"Certainly not you," said Arwen.

"Stand by for water effects," came the voice in Arwen's earpiece.

Just as the Black Riders had crossed to the center of the ford, there came a roar like the surging of the ocean tide. Around the bend in the river, a massive wall of white water swelled, rushing downward toward the Nazgûl.

"Holy…," said Frodo, slack jawed. "Now that's elf magic."

The rushing water then took the form of rampant horses, flowing onward down, ever down.

"Wait a second." Frodo raised an eyebrow quizzically. "Why aren't they getting out of the way? They're… they're just standing there. In the middle of the river. Stupid Black Riders are like deer in the torchlight or something."

"Elf magic," said Arwen. "Obviously. They're… frozen. Mm-hmm. Frozen in another force field I created."

"Ah," said Frodo.

At last, the Black Riders were washed away (or at least seemed to have been), and it was all very spectacular and dramatic.

"Quick, get him with the knock-out potion," barked the voice in Arwen's earpiece.

"Hold on," she said, huffily. "Yeesh. Can't wait a couple seconds for me to enjoy my moment, I guess. Fine."

Frodo, somewhat perplexed by Arwen's apparently self-directed dialog, shook his head and decided she was probably very, very confused.

Arwen then furtively injected him with an intense knock-out potion, which instantly sent the unlucky hobbit into la-la land.

"Gah," said Arwen. "Finally. I was getting tired of the little jerk."