Problem Solving With Aragorn!
By Lady of the Wolves
Dedicated to my fellow empress, Lerinzel, and Prince Ame for helping me brainstorm
The fair Lord Aragorn rode swiftly across the barren plains on his way to Rivendell. He urged his horse on, hoping to make it to the Elven haven as soon as possible. His horse's hooves pounded the dry earth, and Aragorn was restless as he sped closer and closer to Eriador.
He had a problem.
He finally reached Rivendell early the next morning. Quickly dismounting from his tired horse, he threw his reins at an innocent elf who had come over to help him.
Elf *falls over with loud, painful sound*: Hey!
Horse: Tell me about it, I have marks in my sides from where he's kicked me since we were at Isengard!
Aragorn paid no heed, but flew up the stairs and into the main building, where he found Lord Elrond seated at the window, quietly reading. He looked up when he saw Aragorn enter and a puzzled look crossed his face.
"What is it, Aragorn? For what reason have you flown so swiftly to Rivendell?" he questioned.
Aragorn paused to regain his breath, then managed to get out, "I have a problem."
Elrond smiled slightly. "Then by all means, let me help."
Aragorn grinned. "Great! Okay, wise Lord Elrond, I can't decide if I should marry Arwen or Eowyn. Can you help me?"
A frown soon replaced the smile and Elrond's eyes darkened.
Aragorn, being stupid as he was, didn't notice, and just leaned forward with an expectant look on his face.
The wise Elven ruler Lord Elrond bent forward as well. "Aragorn," he said seriously, "RACK OFF!"
Aragorn slowly trudged down a hill. He just couldn't understand why Elrond had told him to rack off, whatever that meant, and had beaten him up with his book and thrown him out of Rivendell (literally!). He hadn't even gotten his horse back. "Well, same to you!" he shouted, turning around and shaking his fist before he remembered that he was now many miles from Rivendell. (It took a while for his brain to process things.)
Continuing onward, an idea came to Aragorn's slow and sluggish mind. "Hey," he said slowly, "I'll go ask Theoden! I'm sure he'll have the answer!" He immediately brightened up. Even better, he came across a lone horse grazing in the field where he walked. He mounted it and set off toward Edoras.
Aragorn reached Edoras the next morning. He rode his new horse up the hill to the palace, and quickly ran up the steps into Theoden's hall. Theoden was reading something and he was unfolding something from his reading material and looking at it attentively when Aragorn entered the hall. He quickly stuffed it behind him and held open his arms. "Welcome, Aragorn!" he cried, gesturing for him to come in.
Aragorn knelt before Theoden before hugging him. "It is good to see you!" announced Theoden, patting him on the back. "What can I do for you?"
"Well," Aragorn started, "I have a problem."
Theoden's brow furrowed and he put his hand to his chin. "Well, just sit yourself down and tell me all about it, I'll be glad to help!"
Aragorn brightened. "Okay!" He plopped down on Theoden's lap.
Theoden: Ouch! When was the last time you saw a treadmill?
Aragorn: What?
"So, what's your problem?" Theoden asked. "Shoot."
Aragorn was confused. "Shoot? Shoot what?"
"Just tell me your problem," Theoden growled.
"Okay, I can't decide if I should marry Arwen or Eowyn. Can you help?"
Theoden paused in thought. Anyone could tell by looking at his face that he was thinking very, very hard. Aragorn sat patiently for several minutes before Theoden finally spoke. "I'm afraid I don't understand, Aragorn. Is this a riddle? It seems very complicated."
Aragorn sighed. "I know. It is."
Theoden patted his back. "I'm sorry I can't help you, but I think I know someone who can." He reached into his tunic and removed a slip of paper. "Just call these guys, they're sure to help."
Aragorn slowly read the slip. "1-800-HOOTERS?" he questioned.
Theoden turned bright red and snatched the paper back, again stuffing it in his tunic. He pulled out another slip, read it first, then handed it to Aragorn, smiling. "Here you go!"
Aragorn read this one. "1-800-PROBLEM," he said. "Okay, great! Thanks a lot!"
"Sure, sure. Knock yourself out, kid," said Theoden , reaching behind his seat for his "reading material" again.
Aragorn skipped out of the palace and down the steps happily. He pulled out his cell phone and carefully dialed 1-800-PROBLEM. He walked as he listened to the ring. On the third ring, someone picked up.
"Hello, you have reached 1-800-PROBLEM, this is Sarah, how may I help you?" the receptionist asked.
Unfortunately, due to the static on the hilltop, Aragorn couldn't hear her very well, and mistook what she said. (Or maybe he's just naturally dumb. Makes you think, doesn't it?)
"Hello? This is Satan?" he asked, confused.
"No, Sar-ah," she said irritably. "How may I help you?"
"Okay, so you're Satan?" Aragorn asked, now very confused.
"No, my name is SAR-AH," she said angrily. "SARAH!"
"Look, pal, I don't want anything to do with 1-800-PROBLEM if you're Satan, okay?" Aragorn said. "I mean, what kind of sick person are you? Hello? Hello? Huh, weird people," said Aragorn, stuffing his cell phone back in his pocket when he heard the dial tone.
Aragorn sighed and trudged along the streets. He passed two peasants, a mule, a goat, and a strange man in a long black jacket.
Woman peasant: I told you to get some wool for a coat, not a mule and a goat!
Man peasant: But—
Man in long coat: Excuse me. It's the cellular static, ma'am. But with Sprint PCS—
Aragorn didn't really pay attention, he was too dejected. Nobody seemed to be able to help him, and he still as lost as ever. Suddenly getting an idea, he pulled two objects from his pocket and held them in front of him. "Okay, this one's Arwen, and this one's Eowyn," he told himself. "Eenie-meanie-mynie…mynie…mynie…aw, shucks! I can never remember that one," he said, defeated. He continued down the hill.
Suddenly, Aragorn's foot landed on a loose rock, and he almost tripped, but caught himself just in time. Glaring at the rock that had almost sent him rolling down the hill, he prepared to kick it. He pulled his foot back and got into position when…it spoke!
"Don't kick me," the rock said.
Aragorn gasped and whirled around, drawing his sword. "Who said that?" he demanded. "Who was it?" He circled round and round.
"It was me," said the rock. Aragorn finally looked downward and saw the rock.
"That's right," Aragorn said, "I was about to kick you." He pulled his foot back into position again.
"If you don't kick me," said the rock, thinking quickly, "then I'll answer any one question for you!"
"Really?" asked Aragorn excitedly. "Okay great!" But now Aragorn couldn't remember his problem. He stood thinking for a moment when a peasant with a wheelbarrow full of hay passed.
"Hey," the peasant said, "do you know what time it is?"
Aragorn thought for a moment and looked at the sky. "What time IS it?" he asked aloud.
"Oh, it's 3:15," said the rock.
"Oh, it's 3:15," said Aragorn to the peasant.
"Great. Thanks a lot, pal," said the peasant, who continued to push the wheelbarrow up the hill.
"Sure, no prob," Aragorn called after the peasant, then turned to the rock. "Okay, here's my question: should I marry Arwen or Eowyn?"
The rock didn't say anything. "Hey, pal," Aragorn threatened, "we had a deal, remember? I don't kick you, you answer any one question? What about my one question? Hey, stupid rock!" Aragorn picked up the rock and shook it vigorously. "Stupid rock!" He angrily threw it as far and hard as he could and continued to march down the hill when, suddenly, a landslide occurred and he was buried in rocks up to his neck!
Suddenly, the rock that he had thrown came sailing down and hit him on the head with a loud smack. Ouch.
The next day, Aragorn managed to climb out from under the rocks. (How? He doesn't need to explain, he's ARAGORN!) He whistled, and his new horse came flying down the hill. Aragorn mounted and started off across the plains. He soon decided to head over to Gondor and ask Denethor what he thought he should do.
Aragorn finally reached Gondor, and quickly headed inside the walled city. As he entered the gates, a sign in a corner caught his eye. Gasping and turning to see what he had had noticed, Aragorn noticed a common market stall with the words "PROBLEM SOLVING" plainly printed on top. He quickly dismounted and ran over to it.
An elderly man leaned against the inside of the stall. He saw Aragorn coming and stood up straight. "Ah, how may I help you?" he asked as Aragorn approached.
"I have a problem," Aragorn stated.
The old man smiled. "Well, most people who come here do," he said. "What's the matter?"
Aragorn took a deep breath as the man took out a clipboard. "Okay. I can't decide if I should marry Arwen or Eowyn," he said.
"Mmm hmm. Now let's do something about this problem of yours," the man said, quickly scribbling down some notes. He laid the clipboard down and bent to get something. Aragorn managed to sneak a peek at the clipboard to see that it read "Grocery List: eggs, milk, toilet paper" before the old man grabbed his clipboard and held out something for Aragorn.
Aragorn looked at what the old man offered him. "No thanks," he said, "I don't really like those cookies."
The old man frowned. "This is the only way your problem will be solved," he said, holding out the fortune cookie.
"No, it's okay, I really don't want it," said Aragorn.
"Take the fortune cookie," the old man insisted.
"No, I don't want the cookie."
"TAKE THE COOKIE!"
"I DON'T WANT THE COOKIE!!"
"TAKE THE *@#%&$! COOKIE!!"
"I DON'T WANT THE *&@%#$! COOKIE!!!"
By now, quite a crowd had gathered. Aragorn's horse pushed forward and laid his head on Aragorn's shoulder.
Horse: Aragorn. I think you should take the cookie.
Aragorn: Horse. I don't want the cookie.
Horse: Just take it, I'll eat it.
Aragorn snatched the cookie away from the old man and stalked off. He could hear the old man laughing in the distance. He headed over to some steps and plopped down on them. Breaking the cookie in half, he pulled out the slip of paper and tossed the cookie pieces to his horse. He slowly read his "fortune."
"Marry the girl whose name is five letters long and has a w, an e, and an n in it."
It took a moment for Aragorn to understand that his problem had finally been given a solution. "YES!" he cried, pumping his fist in the air. "IT'S MY BIRTHDAY!" The other people on the steps quickly ran away. "Now all I have to do is figure out which girl's name fits the description!" he said happily. He sat down, pulled a pencil from his pocket, and started figuring.
ONE YEAR LATER…
"I've done it!" cried Aragorn, standing up (with some difficulty). "I finally know who I should marry!" He hobbled down the steps, his sore legs in great pain, and mounted a strange horse, mistaking it for his own. He quickly rode through the gates of Gondor, chased by an angry peasant shouting, "HEY! MY HORSE!!"
It took some time to reach Rivendell, but when he finally got there, he found it completely deserted. After searching everywhere, he returned to the main building, where he found a note attached to the door.
"To Whom It May Concern," the note read, "The Elves formerly of Rivendell have relocated to the Grey Havens Las Vegas. Will be back never. Ta ta! — Elrond."
Aragorn gasped. "Oh no!" he cried. "Arwen has already left Middle-earth. I can't marry her now." His shoulders sagged, but he suddenly brightened. "But that's okay, because I can always marry Eowyn!" He leaped back on his stolen horse and rode quickly to Gondor, where he remembered she had been when he had first gone to Elrond with his problem.
Entering the city of Gondor, Aragorn rode his horse up to the main palace of Gondor, where he expected Eowyn to be. He dismounted and ran inside and immediately saw Eowyn sitting in an ornate chair. He ran over and yelled, "Hi Eowyn!"
Eowyn looked up, shocked. "Aragorn!" she cried. "What a surprise!"
Aragorn wasted no time. He got down on one knee. "Will you marry me?"
At that exact moment, Faramir entered the room and put his arm around Eowyn. "Aragorn!" he cried. "What a wonderful surprise for our first anniversary! We were so worried when you didn't make it to the wedding." He looked at Eowyn, who looked surprised, and at Aragorn, who looked dejected. "What is it?" he asked. "Did I interrupt something? Aragorn?"
Aragorn got off his knee and trudged from the room, ignoring Eowyn and Faramir. He left the palace and trudged over to the steps where his horse stood, patiently waiting.
"Well," Aragorn said sadly to the horse, "I guess it's just you and me now, eh?"
"Hey!" he heard a peasant's voice cry out, and he turned around to see a huge mob of angry town folk armed with pitchforks and torches. "That's the guy that stole my horse!"
"He's come back for more!" cried another peasant.
"Let's get him!" cried another, and the mob roared in agreement and chased Aragorn from the city.
THE END
The moral of this story, as you are probably well aware of, is that you should never, ever, take cookies or any other food from strangers. I mean, jeez.