THE LORD OF THE RINGS
The King's Gone Missing!
Arwen Undómiel woke up the same way she had for the past three thousand years - with her hair in a mess. Leaning over to speak to her husband, Aragorn, King Elessar of Gondor, and many other names and titles besides, she complained in Elvish,
"I really wish someone would get a move on and invent the hairnet. I've been waiting an entire age now, and it's starting to get really annoying."
For almost a minute she sat up in the bed in silence, waiting for a response - but there was none.
"Aragorn?" Arwen asked gently. "Aragorn?"
Pulling the bedsheets back, the Queen was shocked to find that the other side was empty. Rushing out of the master bedroom, Arwen turned to the first guard she could find. "Has the King been about his business this morning?"
"No, my Lady," the guard responded sternly. "He hasn't been seen since last night."
"Last night?" Arwen echoed. "Then have every man that can be spared begin searching the seven walls of the City - the King has disappeared."
For the rest of the day, Arwen sat in silence upon her throne in the Tower Hall, waiting for any news on the King, and from time to time looking over at the empty throne next to hers with a deepening look of despair. Finally, as the sun fell behind the Ephel Duath in the far distance, the Captain of the Guard marched into the Hall. "What news, Addraécyn?"
"None, my Lady," he responded grimly. "The City has been searched on every level, and the rider I dispatched to Ithilien has just returned."
"And what news does he bring?"
"Lord Faramir reports that the King has not visited him, and that if he is in the lands about Emyn Arnen, he knows not of it."
"Thank the rider for me. That will be all for just now."
"Yes, my Lady." But as the captain turned to leave, Arwen quickly added, "No, wait. Have other riders prepare to leave immediately."
"Their orders, my Lady?"
"They must search out the Fellowship of the Ring," she commanded. "Only they can solve this mystery.". . .
---------------------------------------------------------------------
Frodo Baggins woke up the same way he had for the past several months - all shagged-out. Managing to crawl his way out of bed, Frodo let his hairy feet guide him into the kitchen at Bag End.
"Good morning, Master Frodo!" Samwise Gamgee greeted with a loving smile.
"Morning, Sam," Frodo yawned. "And why are you calling me 'Master'? I'm only doing all that Master/Slave stuff at night. And in bed."
"Then I guess I'll have to wait until tonight, 'Master'," Sam answered with a gleam in his eyes, before putting out a plate on the table, filled with eggs, sausages, and bacon. "There's your breakfast, Frodo. There's toast on the rack, and - oh! I almost forgot."
"What is it, Sam?" Frodo asked.
"A rider from Gondor was here about an hour ago, he left you a letter. I think I left it there on the table."
"A rider from Gondor?" Frodo wondered, as he found and picked up the letter.
"He said it was of the utmost importance," Sam added.
Breaking the wax seal, which bore the White Tree of Gondor, Frodo quickly studied the letter, as he ate a slice of toast. Then, without warning, Frodo spat out the half-eaten toast in shock.
"What's wrong, Frodo?" Sam asked in concern.
"It's Aragorn - he's gone missing!"
"Strider? Missing? You're kidding me on, Frodo," Sam dismissed.
"I'm not kidding, Sam. It says here in the letter that Queen Arwen has requested the presence of the Fellowship to help solve the crisis."
"Oh my," Sam uttered in shock. "I guess we'd better find-"
Sam was interrupted mid-sentence, as the front door of Bag End burst open with a tremendous racket. Peering with fear into the lobby, Sam was able to finish his sentence, as lying in a pile on the wooden floor was, "Merry and Pippin!"
"Hullo, Sam hic!" Merry slurred.
"Get off me, Merry, you big poof!" Pippin shouted, equally inebriated, from somewhere underneath Merry.
"Oi!" Sam responded in disgust.
"Oh, sorry, Sam," Pippin apologised. "I forgot you and Frodo were, uh, you know…"
"Are what?" Frodo asked, as he walked up to the two Hobbits as they tried to get onto the feet.
"Hullo, Frodo!" Merry greeted, the first to his feet. "Hope you hic celebrated Christmas, last night!"
"Christmas?" Frodo queried. "There's no such thing."
"What? Pippin, did you just hic make that up?"
"Sorry, good friend," Pippin apologised, while he tried to dust himself down without falling over. "But it was the only way I could think of getting you out of the house."
"That's all well and good," Sam interrupted, starting to get angry with his two friends drunken conversation. "But that doesn't explain why you broke down the door to get into Frodo's house."
"Oh, we realised we'd never make it as far as Buckland in the hic state we're in," Merry tried to explain. "So we thought we'd just crash here instead."
"Well, you certainly crashed in alright," Frodo remarked with a grin, seeing the comedy in the situation. "And it's a good thing you did too - there's trouble in Gondor."
"Whahic?" Merry asked.
"King Elessar, Aragorn, Strider, Este-"
"Sorry to butt-in, Frodo," Sam interjected, "But if we wait for you to say every one of Strider's names, we'll be here until the Fifth Age!"
"Oh, sorry. Well, the problem is, Aragorn's gone missing."
"What?" Pippin blurted out in surprise.
"According to Sam, a rider from Gondor delivered a letter from Queen Arwen this morning. In the letter, she requests the presence of the Fellowship to help solve the mystery of the missing King."
"Well, I'd just love to help," Merry began. "But how are us hic four Hobbits, never mind the rest of the Fellowship, meant to get all the way to Minas Tirith in hic anything resembling a short time? Last time, it took us seven-hundred bloody pages to get there!"
"I know how!" Pippin shouted out suddenly.
"No, Pippin," Merry warned, a look of fear in his eyes. "Not hic that way."
"What are you two blathering on about now?" Sam asked angrily.
"The only way that we, and the others are to have any hope of getting to Minas Tirith quickly is to use the 'Power of the Whoosh'."
"Power of the… Whoosh?" Frodo enquired sceptically.
"I think it'd be better if I demonstrated. I recommend you put your fingers in your ears."
"Why should we put our-" But Sam never had a chance to finish his question, as Pippin took a great breath, before letting out a mighty:
"WHOOSH!!!"
"What the bloody hell was that?!?" Sam shouted in shock.
"That was the Power of the Whoosh!" Pippin responded with surprising clarity.
"You could have warned us it would be so loud," Frodo suggested.
"Well, I did say to put your fingers in your ears," Pippin reminded.
"Do you lot have to speak so loud?" Merry interrupted weakly.
"What's wrong with you?" Sam asked.
"One of the Power of the Whoosh's many magical powers," Pippin explained, "is that it makes anybody caught within its sound instantly sober - and, in Merry's case, instantly hung over."
"So why don't you seem to have headache, Pippin?" Frodo asked.
"Fortunately for me, one of the better traits I inherited as a Took is the ability to sober-up without the problem of a hangover."
"Lucky bas…" Merry trailed off angrily.
"Hey," Pippin added. "At least you don't have the hiccups anymore."
"Excuse me," Sam asked, "But does anybody know where we are, anyway?"
"You're in my bedroom!" A familiar voice answered.
The Hobbits quickly span round (except for Merry, who merely shuffled), and Sam immediately greeted gleefully,
"Leggie!"
"Don't call me that!" Legolas retorted angrily, who was sitting in front of a mirror, a hairbrush in-hand. "Only girls call me that."
"Yeah, girls and ben…" Merry quickly trailed-off again, noticing the sharp, angry stares from Frodo and Sam.
"Anyway," Legolas interrupted, getting the Hobbits attentions back. "What brings you to Eryn Lasgalen?"
"Have you heard about Aragorn?" Frodo asked.
"Yes," Legolas confirmed. "I received word this morning, I've been preparing to leave ever since."
"No need!" Pippin boldly proclaimed. "I can get you to Gondor in no time, thanks to the Power of the Whoosh!"
"Power of the Whoosh? I've never heard of it."
"You'll wish you hadn't," Merry remarked grouchily.
"I don't know about anyone else," Frodo began, "but shouldn't we be going?"
"Not yet," Legolas answered. "I still have several hours of preparation ahead."
"Several hours? What on Middle-earth are you preparing for?" Sam asked with an astounded tone.
"My hair," Legolas replied in all seriousness. "I have to make sure it's absolutely perfect before I leave, or else the wind will have it blowing in every direction."
"And you wonder why people call you 'Leggie'." Merry smirked.
"We can't wait here on you for hours," Frodo pointed-out. "You're just going to have to come the way you are."
"But-"
"No 'buts'."
"Don't tell Sam that, Frodo," Merry started, "he might start to-" He suddenly noticed Sam curling his hand into a fist, "I'll be quiet now."
"So, where are we going next?" Pippin asked.
"I believe Gimli is taking part in the Dwarf-Tossing Championships up at Erebor just now," Legolas mentioned.
"Then off to the Lonely Mountain we go!" Frodo commanded.
"Remember the ears, everyone," Pippin cautioned.
"Ears?" Legolas asked.
"WHOOSH!!!"
"What in the name of Eru Ilúvatar was that?!?" Legolas gasped in surprise.
"The shouting!" Merry snapped in anger.
"Oh, sorry," Legolas apologised.
"That was the Power of the Whoosh," Pippin informed.
"O… kay."
"Hey," Frodo enquired. "What's that?"
Frodo pointed up into the sky where, against the imposing sight of the Lonely Mountain, a small ginger-coloured object seemed to be in mid-air.
"I don't know what that is, Frodo," Sam replied. "But it seems to be heading for us!"
"Everyone, get out of its way!" Legolas shouted in alarm.
Legolas and the four Hobbits hastily leapt in different directions (Merry just fell backwards), managing to get clear of the falling object, which they could hear screaming "Khazâd ai-mênu!" just before it landed.
Slowly getting back to their feet, the party looked over at the small crater that now occupied where they had just stood. In it, knocked unconscious, was a certain Dwarf.
"Gimli!" Legolas identified with a smile. Picking him up and dusting him down, before giving him a slap to the face to wake him, Legolas asked, "What were you doing up there?"
"Hello, my pointy-eared friend," Gimli greeted. "I was practising for the Championships, that's all. Oh, and did you know that your hair is in an awful mess?"
"What?" Legolas glared angrily over at the four Hobbits, who were all trying to avoid his stare (except Merry, whose headache was so bad he couldn't even raise his head up). "I knew I should have prepared for longer."
"So, what brings you and - my word! - my four favourite Hobbits, to Erebor?"
"Have you heard the news about Aragorn?" Frodo asked.
"No, I've been practicing for the Championships all morning - why, what's happened?"
"He's gone missing," Sam explained.
"What?!?" Gimli roared in shock.
"The shouting!"
"Sorry, Merry," Gimli apologised. "If Aragorn's missing, we should head for Gondor immediately!"
"That's where we're going now," Frodo explained.
"Shouldn't we try to find Gandalf first?" Sam enquired.
"No one who has ever gone looking for him, has ever managed to track down the Grey Pilgrim," Legolas elaborated. "But I believe that he'll find his own way to Minas Tirith quickly enough."
"Then, may I suggest that everybody puts their fingers in their ears?" Pippin requested.
"Why?" Gimli asked.
"Just do it," Legolas recommended.
Pippin waited until everybody was ready, before taking another deep breath, and:
"WHOOSH!!!"
"What was that?" Gimli asked. "I could've sworn that I just heard something."
"Where are we?" Frodo asked.
"In my bathroom!!!" screamed a recognizable voice.
Turning round, Sam blushed and swiftly put his hands in front of his eyes, while the rest tried desperately to stop their eyes from popping-out. All except Merry, who instead blurted out, "Éowyn!"
And indeed it was Éowyn, the White Lady of Rohan, sitting in a bath; naked as the day she was born.
"Err, Pippin," Frodo asked. "I think you overshot the mark a bit."
"No, I didn't."
"What?"
"I knew that the only thing that would cure Merry's hangover would be for him to see Éowyn in the nude."
Looking over, Frodo asked Merry, "How are you feeling?"
"Never better!" he replied excitedly.
"'Overshot the mark' indeed!" Gimli added with a smirk.
"Excuse me," Éowyn interrupted angrily. "But could you please leave?"
"Yes, I think she has a point," Legolas agreed. "Come on everyone, gather round Pippin."
As the group crowded together, a still stunned Merry couldn't help but ask, "Pippin, how did you know that Éowyn would be taking a bath at this exact moment?"
"Err…"
"WHOOSH!!!"
"Ouch," Sam grimaced, feeling at his ears tenderly. "You could have warned us when you were actually going to do it!"
"It's not his fault you had your hands covering your eyes, instead of your ears," Merry pointed out. "You big fa- I'll be quiet now." Sam slowly lowered his fist.
"So, now where are we?" Frodo asked.
"You are in the Tower Hall of Minas Tirith," a wise old voice responded. "And it is the morning of January the eighteenth, if you want to know."
"I didn't want to know, Gandalf, I was only asking for where we were."
"And now you do."
"And for that, I thank you."
"No problem."
"Ahem," a third voice cut-in.
Turning round (one of the problems of travelling by the Power of the Whoosh is that you always arrive facing away from people) Legolas, Gimli, and the Hobbits, saw Gandalf, clothed as ever in white, standing next to Queen Arwen, who sat gracefully upon her throne.
"I'm glad you could get here so soon," she thanked.
"Oh, it was no problem," Pippin responded with a smile.
"No," Gandalf interjected. "The problem is that we have a missing King."
"Is somebody looking for me?" Aragorn asked, as he walked into the Hall, a towel wrapped around his lower half, while he dried his hair with another.
"Where the hell have you been?" Arwen blasted.
"Having a bath, what does it look like?"
"You," Merry asked, "we're just… having a bath?"
"Yes," Aragorn confirmed, starting to get slightly irritated. "Why, does someone have a problem with that?"
"I don't," Sam answered, trying not to drool.
Not even Merry had a sarcastic response for that outburst, and merely rolled his eyes.
"We all thought that you'd gone missing," Legolas informed.
"You had us all quite worried there for a short while," Gimli added.
"I'm sorry," Aragorn apologised, although not quite sure what for. "But after a thousand-pages worth of getting covered in mud, grime, and Orc-blood, I thought it was about time I cleaned myself up."
"So, all this time that I had the men of the City looking high and low for you," Arwen asked, "you were in the bath?"
"Well, maybe next time you'll bother to look in the bathroom first," Aragorn retorted.
There was an uneasy silence, before Frodo spoke up, "I don't know about anybody else, but I'd like to go home now."
The rest of the group agreed (although Sam seemed to be slightly reluctant), and made their farewells to Aragorn, Arwen, and Gandalf.
"Don't be so hasty to get rid of me," Gandalf interrupted. "I have not been to the Shire for too long now, and it's about time I paid it another visit."
"Well," Pippin began, "you'd better get a bit closer - oh, and I'd put my fingers in my ears, if I were you."
"Whatever fo-"
"WHOOSH!!!"
~ THE END ~
The King's Gone Missing!
Arwen Undómiel woke up the same way she had for the past three thousand years - with her hair in a mess. Leaning over to speak to her husband, Aragorn, King Elessar of Gondor, and many other names and titles besides, she complained in Elvish,
"I really wish someone would get a move on and invent the hairnet. I've been waiting an entire age now, and it's starting to get really annoying."
For almost a minute she sat up in the bed in silence, waiting for a response - but there was none.
"Aragorn?" Arwen asked gently. "Aragorn?"
Pulling the bedsheets back, the Queen was shocked to find that the other side was empty. Rushing out of the master bedroom, Arwen turned to the first guard she could find. "Has the King been about his business this morning?"
"No, my Lady," the guard responded sternly. "He hasn't been seen since last night."
"Last night?" Arwen echoed. "Then have every man that can be spared begin searching the seven walls of the City - the King has disappeared."
For the rest of the day, Arwen sat in silence upon her throne in the Tower Hall, waiting for any news on the King, and from time to time looking over at the empty throne next to hers with a deepening look of despair. Finally, as the sun fell behind the Ephel Duath in the far distance, the Captain of the Guard marched into the Hall. "What news, Addraécyn?"
"None, my Lady," he responded grimly. "The City has been searched on every level, and the rider I dispatched to Ithilien has just returned."
"And what news does he bring?"
"Lord Faramir reports that the King has not visited him, and that if he is in the lands about Emyn Arnen, he knows not of it."
"Thank the rider for me. That will be all for just now."
"Yes, my Lady." But as the captain turned to leave, Arwen quickly added, "No, wait. Have other riders prepare to leave immediately."
"Their orders, my Lady?"
"They must search out the Fellowship of the Ring," she commanded. "Only they can solve this mystery.". . .
---------------------------------------------------------------------
Frodo Baggins woke up the same way he had for the past several months - all shagged-out. Managing to crawl his way out of bed, Frodo let his hairy feet guide him into the kitchen at Bag End.
"Good morning, Master Frodo!" Samwise Gamgee greeted with a loving smile.
"Morning, Sam," Frodo yawned. "And why are you calling me 'Master'? I'm only doing all that Master/Slave stuff at night. And in bed."
"Then I guess I'll have to wait until tonight, 'Master'," Sam answered with a gleam in his eyes, before putting out a plate on the table, filled with eggs, sausages, and bacon. "There's your breakfast, Frodo. There's toast on the rack, and - oh! I almost forgot."
"What is it, Sam?" Frodo asked.
"A rider from Gondor was here about an hour ago, he left you a letter. I think I left it there on the table."
"A rider from Gondor?" Frodo wondered, as he found and picked up the letter.
"He said it was of the utmost importance," Sam added.
Breaking the wax seal, which bore the White Tree of Gondor, Frodo quickly studied the letter, as he ate a slice of toast. Then, without warning, Frodo spat out the half-eaten toast in shock.
"What's wrong, Frodo?" Sam asked in concern.
"It's Aragorn - he's gone missing!"
"Strider? Missing? You're kidding me on, Frodo," Sam dismissed.
"I'm not kidding, Sam. It says here in the letter that Queen Arwen has requested the presence of the Fellowship to help solve the crisis."
"Oh my," Sam uttered in shock. "I guess we'd better find-"
Sam was interrupted mid-sentence, as the front door of Bag End burst open with a tremendous racket. Peering with fear into the lobby, Sam was able to finish his sentence, as lying in a pile on the wooden floor was, "Merry and Pippin!"
"Hullo, Sam hic!" Merry slurred.
"Get off me, Merry, you big poof!" Pippin shouted, equally inebriated, from somewhere underneath Merry.
"Oi!" Sam responded in disgust.
"Oh, sorry, Sam," Pippin apologised. "I forgot you and Frodo were, uh, you know…"
"Are what?" Frodo asked, as he walked up to the two Hobbits as they tried to get onto the feet.
"Hullo, Frodo!" Merry greeted, the first to his feet. "Hope you hic celebrated Christmas, last night!"
"Christmas?" Frodo queried. "There's no such thing."
"What? Pippin, did you just hic make that up?"
"Sorry, good friend," Pippin apologised, while he tried to dust himself down without falling over. "But it was the only way I could think of getting you out of the house."
"That's all well and good," Sam interrupted, starting to get angry with his two friends drunken conversation. "But that doesn't explain why you broke down the door to get into Frodo's house."
"Oh, we realised we'd never make it as far as Buckland in the hic state we're in," Merry tried to explain. "So we thought we'd just crash here instead."
"Well, you certainly crashed in alright," Frodo remarked with a grin, seeing the comedy in the situation. "And it's a good thing you did too - there's trouble in Gondor."
"Whahic?" Merry asked.
"King Elessar, Aragorn, Strider, Este-"
"Sorry to butt-in, Frodo," Sam interjected, "But if we wait for you to say every one of Strider's names, we'll be here until the Fifth Age!"
"Oh, sorry. Well, the problem is, Aragorn's gone missing."
"What?" Pippin blurted out in surprise.
"According to Sam, a rider from Gondor delivered a letter from Queen Arwen this morning. In the letter, she requests the presence of the Fellowship to help solve the mystery of the missing King."
"Well, I'd just love to help," Merry began. "But how are us hic four Hobbits, never mind the rest of the Fellowship, meant to get all the way to Minas Tirith in hic anything resembling a short time? Last time, it took us seven-hundred bloody pages to get there!"
"I know how!" Pippin shouted out suddenly.
"No, Pippin," Merry warned, a look of fear in his eyes. "Not hic that way."
"What are you two blathering on about now?" Sam asked angrily.
"The only way that we, and the others are to have any hope of getting to Minas Tirith quickly is to use the 'Power of the Whoosh'."
"Power of the… Whoosh?" Frodo enquired sceptically.
"I think it'd be better if I demonstrated. I recommend you put your fingers in your ears."
"Why should we put our-" But Sam never had a chance to finish his question, as Pippin took a great breath, before letting out a mighty:
"WHOOSH!!!"
"What the bloody hell was that?!?" Sam shouted in shock.
"That was the Power of the Whoosh!" Pippin responded with surprising clarity.
"You could have warned us it would be so loud," Frodo suggested.
"Well, I did say to put your fingers in your ears," Pippin reminded.
"Do you lot have to speak so loud?" Merry interrupted weakly.
"What's wrong with you?" Sam asked.
"One of the Power of the Whoosh's many magical powers," Pippin explained, "is that it makes anybody caught within its sound instantly sober - and, in Merry's case, instantly hung over."
"So why don't you seem to have headache, Pippin?" Frodo asked.
"Fortunately for me, one of the better traits I inherited as a Took is the ability to sober-up without the problem of a hangover."
"Lucky bas…" Merry trailed off angrily.
"Hey," Pippin added. "At least you don't have the hiccups anymore."
"Excuse me," Sam asked, "But does anybody know where we are, anyway?"
"You're in my bedroom!" A familiar voice answered.
The Hobbits quickly span round (except for Merry, who merely shuffled), and Sam immediately greeted gleefully,
"Leggie!"
"Don't call me that!" Legolas retorted angrily, who was sitting in front of a mirror, a hairbrush in-hand. "Only girls call me that."
"Yeah, girls and ben…" Merry quickly trailed-off again, noticing the sharp, angry stares from Frodo and Sam.
"Anyway," Legolas interrupted, getting the Hobbits attentions back. "What brings you to Eryn Lasgalen?"
"Have you heard about Aragorn?" Frodo asked.
"Yes," Legolas confirmed. "I received word this morning, I've been preparing to leave ever since."
"No need!" Pippin boldly proclaimed. "I can get you to Gondor in no time, thanks to the Power of the Whoosh!"
"Power of the Whoosh? I've never heard of it."
"You'll wish you hadn't," Merry remarked grouchily.
"I don't know about anyone else," Frodo began, "but shouldn't we be going?"
"Not yet," Legolas answered. "I still have several hours of preparation ahead."
"Several hours? What on Middle-earth are you preparing for?" Sam asked with an astounded tone.
"My hair," Legolas replied in all seriousness. "I have to make sure it's absolutely perfect before I leave, or else the wind will have it blowing in every direction."
"And you wonder why people call you 'Leggie'." Merry smirked.
"We can't wait here on you for hours," Frodo pointed-out. "You're just going to have to come the way you are."
"But-"
"No 'buts'."
"Don't tell Sam that, Frodo," Merry started, "he might start to-" He suddenly noticed Sam curling his hand into a fist, "I'll be quiet now."
"So, where are we going next?" Pippin asked.
"I believe Gimli is taking part in the Dwarf-Tossing Championships up at Erebor just now," Legolas mentioned.
"Then off to the Lonely Mountain we go!" Frodo commanded.
"Remember the ears, everyone," Pippin cautioned.
"Ears?" Legolas asked.
"WHOOSH!!!"
"What in the name of Eru Ilúvatar was that?!?" Legolas gasped in surprise.
"The shouting!" Merry snapped in anger.
"Oh, sorry," Legolas apologised.
"That was the Power of the Whoosh," Pippin informed.
"O… kay."
"Hey," Frodo enquired. "What's that?"
Frodo pointed up into the sky where, against the imposing sight of the Lonely Mountain, a small ginger-coloured object seemed to be in mid-air.
"I don't know what that is, Frodo," Sam replied. "But it seems to be heading for us!"
"Everyone, get out of its way!" Legolas shouted in alarm.
Legolas and the four Hobbits hastily leapt in different directions (Merry just fell backwards), managing to get clear of the falling object, which they could hear screaming "Khazâd ai-mênu!" just before it landed.
Slowly getting back to their feet, the party looked over at the small crater that now occupied where they had just stood. In it, knocked unconscious, was a certain Dwarf.
"Gimli!" Legolas identified with a smile. Picking him up and dusting him down, before giving him a slap to the face to wake him, Legolas asked, "What were you doing up there?"
"Hello, my pointy-eared friend," Gimli greeted. "I was practising for the Championships, that's all. Oh, and did you know that your hair is in an awful mess?"
"What?" Legolas glared angrily over at the four Hobbits, who were all trying to avoid his stare (except Merry, whose headache was so bad he couldn't even raise his head up). "I knew I should have prepared for longer."
"So, what brings you and - my word! - my four favourite Hobbits, to Erebor?"
"Have you heard the news about Aragorn?" Frodo asked.
"No, I've been practicing for the Championships all morning - why, what's happened?"
"He's gone missing," Sam explained.
"What?!?" Gimli roared in shock.
"The shouting!"
"Sorry, Merry," Gimli apologised. "If Aragorn's missing, we should head for Gondor immediately!"
"That's where we're going now," Frodo explained.
"Shouldn't we try to find Gandalf first?" Sam enquired.
"No one who has ever gone looking for him, has ever managed to track down the Grey Pilgrim," Legolas elaborated. "But I believe that he'll find his own way to Minas Tirith quickly enough."
"Then, may I suggest that everybody puts their fingers in their ears?" Pippin requested.
"Why?" Gimli asked.
"Just do it," Legolas recommended.
Pippin waited until everybody was ready, before taking another deep breath, and:
"WHOOSH!!!"
"What was that?" Gimli asked. "I could've sworn that I just heard something."
"Where are we?" Frodo asked.
"In my bathroom!!!" screamed a recognizable voice.
Turning round, Sam blushed and swiftly put his hands in front of his eyes, while the rest tried desperately to stop their eyes from popping-out. All except Merry, who instead blurted out, "Éowyn!"
And indeed it was Éowyn, the White Lady of Rohan, sitting in a bath; naked as the day she was born.
"Err, Pippin," Frodo asked. "I think you overshot the mark a bit."
"No, I didn't."
"What?"
"I knew that the only thing that would cure Merry's hangover would be for him to see Éowyn in the nude."
Looking over, Frodo asked Merry, "How are you feeling?"
"Never better!" he replied excitedly.
"'Overshot the mark' indeed!" Gimli added with a smirk.
"Excuse me," Éowyn interrupted angrily. "But could you please leave?"
"Yes, I think she has a point," Legolas agreed. "Come on everyone, gather round Pippin."
As the group crowded together, a still stunned Merry couldn't help but ask, "Pippin, how did you know that Éowyn would be taking a bath at this exact moment?"
"Err…"
"WHOOSH!!!"
"Ouch," Sam grimaced, feeling at his ears tenderly. "You could have warned us when you were actually going to do it!"
"It's not his fault you had your hands covering your eyes, instead of your ears," Merry pointed out. "You big fa- I'll be quiet now." Sam slowly lowered his fist.
"So, now where are we?" Frodo asked.
"You are in the Tower Hall of Minas Tirith," a wise old voice responded. "And it is the morning of January the eighteenth, if you want to know."
"I didn't want to know, Gandalf, I was only asking for where we were."
"And now you do."
"And for that, I thank you."
"No problem."
"Ahem," a third voice cut-in.
Turning round (one of the problems of travelling by the Power of the Whoosh is that you always arrive facing away from people) Legolas, Gimli, and the Hobbits, saw Gandalf, clothed as ever in white, standing next to Queen Arwen, who sat gracefully upon her throne.
"I'm glad you could get here so soon," she thanked.
"Oh, it was no problem," Pippin responded with a smile.
"No," Gandalf interjected. "The problem is that we have a missing King."
"Is somebody looking for me?" Aragorn asked, as he walked into the Hall, a towel wrapped around his lower half, while he dried his hair with another.
"Where the hell have you been?" Arwen blasted.
"Having a bath, what does it look like?"
"You," Merry asked, "we're just… having a bath?"
"Yes," Aragorn confirmed, starting to get slightly irritated. "Why, does someone have a problem with that?"
"I don't," Sam answered, trying not to drool.
Not even Merry had a sarcastic response for that outburst, and merely rolled his eyes.
"We all thought that you'd gone missing," Legolas informed.
"You had us all quite worried there for a short while," Gimli added.
"I'm sorry," Aragorn apologised, although not quite sure what for. "But after a thousand-pages worth of getting covered in mud, grime, and Orc-blood, I thought it was about time I cleaned myself up."
"So, all this time that I had the men of the City looking high and low for you," Arwen asked, "you were in the bath?"
"Well, maybe next time you'll bother to look in the bathroom first," Aragorn retorted.
There was an uneasy silence, before Frodo spoke up, "I don't know about anybody else, but I'd like to go home now."
The rest of the group agreed (although Sam seemed to be slightly reluctant), and made their farewells to Aragorn, Arwen, and Gandalf.
"Don't be so hasty to get rid of me," Gandalf interrupted. "I have not been to the Shire for too long now, and it's about time I paid it another visit."
"Well," Pippin began, "you'd better get a bit closer - oh, and I'd put my fingers in my ears, if I were you."
"Whatever fo-"
"WHOOSH!!!"
~ THE END ~