Aggie: Guys. Guys. Guys.
Moolie: Mrrrmrmmm.
Ginny: Zzzzzzz.
Aggie: You guuuuys! Wake up!
Moolie: Fiiiiine.
Aggie: Who knew mutated plant leaves could be such a heavy sedative!
...
Chapter Eleven: Arrogant Footsteps
The Men of Rohan were trying to stomach their way through another one of Eowyn's awful concoctions. Gimli was chasing an unrecognizable white chunk around in his bowl with his spoon. Legolas scanned the area; Theoden had picked quite the place to make camp. The army sat in the shadow of the mountains. Theoden and his generals had their tents on a cliff overlooking the troops. Legolas glanced down at the gelatinous mass in his bowl.
Azimah gagged quietly next to Legolas. She was looking a bit off-color. She got up and staggered away from the circle.
The rest of the company had waved away Eowyn's offers of seconds and made their way back to their tents. The wind was moaning and the horses were restless. Eomer ran ahead to calm down his steed as it struggled to break loose of its tether. A red pony with a white mane galloped wildly across the path.
"Eponaaaa! Come back!" A blond boy wearing tights and a green windsock cap chased after the horse, puffing frantically on a silly blue instrument.
"Friend of yours?" Aragorn raised an eyebrow at Legolas.
Legolas sighed. "The horses are restless and the men are quiet."
"That…that has no context." Gimli offered sadly.
"It was my next line…" Legolas said doubtfully, checking his script.
Gimli drew his script from his beard and Aragorn drew his from the deep cleft of his chin. They mulled it over for a minute or two.
"We could restart from the wind moaning part…" Legolas suggested.
A pageboy ran up, panting. "My Lord Aragorn, Lord Elrond is here for his next scene!"
"Dammit, I haven't even fallen asleep yet! Could you stall for me?"
"Aye aye, cap'n!" the pageboy saluted and ran off. Gimli shook his head in disapproval.
"Look, I'm sorry guys." Aragorn started walking away toward his tent. "I gotta cut this short; Lord Elrond needs me for the next scene. Now where did I put those sleeping pills…"
...
Denethor mulled over the lunch menu in his hands. "What's 'Not Lasagna?'" he asked the waitress standing over him.
"Not lasagna, sir," she responded.
"Well." Denethor pondered the choices before him. "I don't really like lasagna..."
"Then may I suggest the 'Not Lasagna?'"
"Hmm, very well..." Denethor muttered, quickly handing the menu back to her before she shuffled away. As the steward nibbled on his appetizers, he glanced sidelong at the figure standing on the steps near him. Pippin, who was busy toying with the thread of the White Tree on his new tunic, failed to notice Denethor's look.
"Can you sing, Master Hobbit?" Denethor asked.
Startled, Pippin jumped. "Yes...at least, well enough for my own people. But we have no songs for great halls and evil times." The hobbit glared at the steward.
"And why should your songs be unfit for my halls?" He paused and the two locked eyes. "Come, sing me a song."
Pippin remained quiet, uncertain of the request. After a deep breath and a bite of a tomato on Denethor's part, Pippin began what he thought to be the most fitting song.
Home is behind, the world ahead
And there are many paths to tread…
Fado and Nora sat huddled behind one of the grand marble statues that lined the hall. Fado leaned on Nora's shoulder and gave a tired sigh. Pippin's song was sad and lonely, but he seemed to carry the tune with ease. Nora looked down at the little sprite. Fado had gone through some trouble trying to hide from the guards now that Satchel was gone. Nora could relate; she, too, had been hiding from her newly arrived family. The two had been scrambling from corner to corner around the keep, avoiding any unwanted attention.
Loud and arrogant footsteps interrupted the two girls' daydreams. They looked to where the noise was coming from. Two guards walked with high knees, grimacing at nothing in particular, down the hall toward them.
"Come on!" Nora whispered harshly, grabbing the sprite's hand before she could say anything in protest. The two ran quickly and quietly down the opposite hallway.
...
The smoke of the Rohirram camp fires snaked towards the moon. Aragorn was finally starting to drift off after taking a huge dose of sleeping medication. As he slipped into deep sleep, a familiar, slender figure passed in front of his vision.
She stood there on the pavilion, as beautiful as the day they had first met. Her long, dark hair cascaded down her back. She was wearing a gossamer lilac dress. Aragorn sat up. She was his one true love, his future queen.
Aragorn slowly lifted himself off the couch he had been reclining on. His arms went around her delicate waist.
"I wish to look into your eyes, my love," Aragorn whispered into her lovely elf ear. It was a bit hairier than usual. Aragorn was confused, but didn't consider it further. "May I please see your lovely face?"
"Okaaay," a high pitched, squeaky and slightly pained voice answered. His love turned around, revealing a reluctantly familiar face, caked with cheap eyeshadow and sloppy lipstick.
"Egad!" Aragorn squealed. "Haldir!?"
"Aaarwen was feeling a bit under the weaaather," Haldir whispered angrily. "I'm her uuunderstudy."
"Are you…in drag?"
"I'm not proooud of what I'm doing." Haldir adjusted his fake eyelash. "Let's just get this ooover with."
Aragorn kept his lips tightly pursed as he went in for the scripted make out session. Haldir turned his face to the side and squeezed his eyes shut. They were just inches away from each other now…
"AHHHH!" Aragorn awoke, drenched in sweat, with his dagger drawn and ready for combat. The same pageboy from earlier stood petrified at the entrance of his tent.
"L-Lord Elrond is here for you…" he stammered. Aragorn sheathed his dagger and nodded for the boy to leave. He stood up, pulled his trousers up, and exhaled uneasily. He exited his tent, feeling slightly dirtier than before his slumber.
...
Fado and Nora were officially lost. Somewhere in the process of trying to lose the guards the girls had totally disoriented themselves in the maze of hallways.
"C'mon," Nora said quietly. "Let's try this door."
They exited into a poorly lit corridor. Fado shivered; this place gave her the heebie-jeebies. Two solitary torches lit the dark expanse of hallway. A dark figure darted between the flickering shadows.
"Nora!" Fado whispered frantically, grabbing Nora's arm. "Nora, there's something in here!"
"I don't see anything," Nora murmured, squinting her eyes.
Fado turned to see a pair of eyes, burning like coals in the shadows; they blinked and disappeared.
"We have to get out of here!" Fado tugged at Nora's hand.
"Fado, keep it down or someone will find us!" Nora hushed her.
"Something's already found us!"
An ashen hand stretched out from the shadows, bits of smoldering tissue falling away.
Fado let out a shriek and pulled Nora down the corridor with a surprising amount of strength. They turned corner after corner; Nora noticed people staring, but Fado still pressed onward.
"Fado, I think we're alri-"
WHUMP!
The two girls fell to the floor upon the impact.
"Whatever are you running from, my dears?" Gandalf looked down to them with a bemused expression, a cup of Darjeeling in one hand and his morning crossword in the other. Fado threw herself at him, causing him to drop his tea. Gandalf patted the little sprite's head, shooting a questioning look at Nora. She gave a shrug.
"T-they're h-here," Fado whispered shakily. "They've c-c-come for me."
"Ah," Gandalf handed his crossword to a confused passerby. He picked up Fado and turned to Nora.
"I must take her to the infirmary wing. She is in grave condition."
"Well that's obvious, what's wrong?"
"Come, I'll explain on the way."
Nora followed Gandalf down the hallway. Fado glanced up from Gandalf's shoulder. There, down the hallway, the demon stood in the shadows, unseen by the castle staff. It had an unearthly wide smile and two wicked curled horns atop its skull. Its eyes burned as it gave her a little wave, bits of flesh curling away into clouds of smoke. It disappeared. Fado buried her head in Gandalf's robes.
...
Legolas and Gimli were trying to bond with their human companions around the fire. Unfortunately, flatulence and hair-braiding techniques didn't seem to be the best conversation starters. Out of the corner of his eye, Legolas spotted Aragorn exiting his tent and walking toward the king's quarters, a bit green in the face. He nudged Gimli.
The dwarf was so engaged in regaling the soldiers with tales of his melodious toots that he didn't notice the elf's attempt. Legolas tried again, much harder this time.
"WHAT!?" Gimli shouted unnecessarily. Legolas simply nodded in Aragorn's direction. Catching on quickly, Gimli gave the elf a smarmy wink and grin combo.
"Gotcha!" he said rather loudly. The two silently got up from the group and began to sneak away.
"Wait, where are you guys going?" one of the soldiers, who was deeply enthralled with Gimli's story, asked.
"Shh," Legolas responded.
The soldier grew quite irritable and placed his hands on his hips. "Don't shush me! Why, I oughtta…"
"Leslie, no!" The men on either side of the angered soldier restrained him the best they could.
Gimli took Legolas by the crook of the elbow and pulled him away. "Let's just go." The two best friends crouched gratuitously behind bushes as they followed Aragorn to Théoden's tent. Once he made it inside, they crept to one side of the tent to listen in.
"My Lord Elrond."
"I'm here on behalf of one whom I love."
"Not this again!" they heard Aragorn shout. "I've had too much of this for one night!"
There was a long, uncomfortable pause. "I beg your pardon?"
Gimli just couldn't hold it in any longer. He let out an abrupt fart, followed by a satisfied exhale. Legolas scowled but said nothing, hoping that no one else heard it.
There was another long pause inside the tent. "My Lord Aragorn," Elrond said at length. "I was unaware that you are unwell."
"No…no!" Aragorn exclaimed. "That wasn't me, it came from outside!"
Elrond gathered his thoughts once again and continued. "The sword that was broken has been reforged, blah, blah, blah…"
Gimli eyed Legolas with a cheeky grin. Legolas shook his head and mouthed 'No!' but it was too late. Gimli broke much wind, once again disrupting the conversation inside.
"Aragorn!"
"It wasn't meee, I swear!"
"I must say, I was skeptical before about you marrying my daughter, but now..."
"Lord Elrond, please!"
"I don't know how she puts up with you!"
Gimli snickered. Legolas waved him off, waiting for the conversation to get back on track.
"As I was saying before our interruption," Elrond went on. "It is not only the fate of Middle Earth that rests in your hands now. Arwen is dying." There was another pause. "Her fate is bound to the Ring. If you die, her heart will shatter."
"What is there to do my Lord? We are outnumbered," Aragorn asked quietly.
"There are those in the mountain that owe allegiance to the rightful king. With this sword, you can command an army the likes of men have not seen for an age."
"They are traitors. Deserters."
"But they will fight. And you do not have a choice, Aragorn. There's Arwen to think of."
"You are right…by your leave, Lord Elrond."
There was a shuffle as the entrance to the tent shifted.
"Aragorn, wait."
"My lord?"
"Are your companions feeling alright?"
"Uh, we're all a little bit nervous about the battle, I guess…"
"When I entered camp, I could sense another fading presence similar to Arwen's. Whoever it is does not have much time."
Legolas frowned, puzzled. His eyes widened as realization dawned on him. Without another word, he ran from the tent back toward camp.
...
Nora left the infirmary wing once Fado had settled down and fallen asleep under heavy sedation. As soon as she turned a corner down another hallway, however, she found herself incredibly lost. The halls were much easier to navigate when you had someone to help guide the way. The Nord took one step down the hallway and immediately fell flat on her face.
"Mrrrrmrmhm." Nora slowly lifted herself back on her feet, blood trickling from where she had accidentally bitten her tongue. She looked down and identified the culprit: the worn down leather that binded her left boot together had come undone.
"Damn these hand-me-downs…" Nora cursed quietly as she knelt to retie the boot. Before she could finish rewrapping the leather, she heard more arrogant footsteps a few yards away. Nora looked up and rolled her eyes. This was the last thing she wanted to deal with.
"Good afternoon, Honora," Ansgar, her dreadfully boring and haughty fiancé, greeted dryly. Nora nodded in return, still feeling the warm blood pooling around her tongue.
"You've been hiding from me," he continued. "You think you and your little friend are sneaky, but we know where you two are practically at all times." Nora frowned, silently blaming Fado for the terrible hiding places. "Why do you avoid me like this?"
Nora shrugged.
"I came here for you, Nora," Ansgar said as softly as he could. "I want you to stop pretending this war means anything to you and come back to Forodwaith."
Nora frowned once more, her face turning red with anger and frustration. "This war means everything to me, Ansgar. You don't understand what I have gone through to make it this far, and I refuse to go home now and let you take over."
Ansgar grew angry. "You are young and foolish, and you will die on that battlefield if you continue with this. You have ruined my reputation in Forodwaith, but you will not take away my reputation as a war hero. Do you understand me?"
Nora had nothing more to say. She turned to leave.
"And don't think I haven't seen you fooling around with that little runt. Does he satisfy you? I'd expect everything to be small, especially his-"
She kneed Ansgar in the crotch, hocked her bloody spit in his direction, and walked down the other end of the hallway.
...
Legolas finally arrived at Azimah's tent.
"What's wrong, lad?"
The elf turned and saw Gimli with his hands proudly on his hips.
"How'd you get here so fast?" Legolas asked, astounded.
"Don't you know? Dwarves are natural sprinters!"
Legolas directed his attention back to matter at hand. There was a light wheezing sound coming from inside the tent. Legolas lightly drew back the tent flap and peered into the shadowed interior. He swallowed. Azimah lay clutching the sides of her bedroll, gasping for breath. Her eyes were shut tightly and her forehead was drenched in sweat.
Legolas dropped to her side, quietly panicking. He frantically grabbed her wrist to check her pulse. Muttering incoherently, he then moved to her forehead to feel for a fever. There was a strong hand on his shoulder.
"What's the matter with her?" Gimli asked softly.
Legolas mumbled something.
"What was that?"
"I don't know!" he shouted. He put his hands on his face and knelt back. "I don't know," he said again quietly.
Gimli thought for a moment. "Maybe I'll be able to catch Lord Elrond before he departs."
Legolas simply nodded, clutching Azimah's clammy hand.
The dwarf sprinted off, leaving them alone.
Later, Gimli and Legolas stood outside the tent awaiting Elrond's diagnosis. Gimli stood with his arms crossed while Legolas paced feverishly.
"What do you think it could be?" Gimli asked tentatively, trying to make conversation.
"I don't know. Elves don't usually get sick…" Legolas said numbly. "It's usually either a mortal wound or a broken heart…"
Gimli's head perked up in realization. Elrond suddenly stepped out of the tent with a somber expression. "She is stable, but she won't last long."
"What's wrong with her?" Legolas asked impatiently.
Gimli threw up his arms in exasperation. "Come on, lad, it's not like she has any profusely bleeding wounds! There's only one other explanation!"
"But that would mean...no one close to her has died! How could that be?"
Elrond shook his head. "There have been a few cases where the apprehension of a loved one's death is enough to cause some serious damage."
"So…she broke her own heart?" Legolas managed at length.
"In a way, yes," Elrond responded.
Gimli shook his head, amazed at how dense Legolas could be sometimes.
"You guys!" Aragorn interrupted, ruining the serious scene. "I was all ready to go to the Dead Mountain and no one was there to stop me!" He waved his script around dramatically. "You missed your cue again!"
...
Ginny: Aggie. Aggie, wake up.
Aggie: Mrrrrmrmrmm.
Ginny: Aggie, it's noon. We need you to go to work so we have more money. I can't be the only one working!
Aggie: I got fired.
Ginny: You WHAT!