The elves scampered on ahead, leaving everyone to follow behind, bathing in a mixture of confusion and excitement.
"Where are we?" Hermione asked Ron, completely blown away.
"I don't know…" he said. Then, turning around to where Emily limped along far behind everyone else, he yelled, "Hey! Do you know where we are?"
"Middle-earth, I guess! Either that or a really, really cool reenactment!"
Nodding, Ron turned back to Hermione. "We're in Middle-earth."
"I heard her, Ron. You were both yelling. How did we get to 'Middle-earth?'"
"I don't know." He turned around again and yelled, "How did we get to 'Middle-earth?'"
"Who knows? Ask Elrond!" Emily shouted, wincing as she tripped and fell flat on her face. Ron had turned back around to Hermione, and everyone else was too busy trying to keep up the pace to notice.
"Who knows?" Ron said to Hermione. "Ask Elrond!"
Hermione groaned. "I heard her, Ron. You can stop playing telephone now."
"You can play fellytone?! How?!"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The elves flung the doors of Rivendell open.
"Come in! Come in! Ha! Ha! Tra! La!" they sang.
Julianna clapped her hands together, smiling. "They're so cute!"
Kathleen snorted. "Yeah… if speed-users turn you on!"
"Speed?" one of the elves had overheard. "You mean like this?" Leaping in the air, he bounced across the room. Unorthodox, yes, but those elves bounced quickly.
"Ummm…" Kathleen felt she should tell the elves that they were a little behind the times so that the more drug-savvy kids at school didn't make fun of them.
"No!" Julianna hissed to her, "If we tell them that that's not the kind of speed we meant, they won't keep bouncing for us!"
Kathleen laughed and nodded, saying to the elf, "Yeah… that's the kind of speed we meant. You have lots of speed!"
"Thank you!" beamed the elf. "Now come! Tril-lil-lil! We must see Elrond! Tra-la-la! We must feed you and tend to your every need!" And the elf bounced off.
"See?" Julianna smirked. "I told you!"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Back out in the grassy fields, a small party of people/dwarves/elves/hobbits approaching Rivendell had spotted Emily, Mrs. Tocci, Heathcliff, and Cathy, lying scattered and inert.
"Orcs!" shouted one of the voices.
"Oh shut up, Legolas," said another, "They are not orcs! You need not say that all the time!"
"I am sorry, Aragorn," said the voice of Legolas. "It is just… you know… they could have been orcs!"
"Why do you not just go touch up your makeup and let me take care of it?" demanded Aragorn.
"I resent that!" Legolas said in a masculine way.
"Resent it all you will. My beloved Arwen is so close… I do not want to stop for people that will surely hinder us!"
"You're supposed to be a king!" scolded a smaller, obviously distressed, voice.
"Yes," said another small voice, "And if you're so close, helping them won't hinder us!"
"You are right…" said Aragorn in a way that appeared to indicate resignation. "I am supposed to be a king, a good king… and that means that if I say we are not stopping, we are not stopping!"
"Noooo!" cried a chorus of small voices.
"Get off me! Get off me!" shouted Aragorn. There was a voice of a body hitting the ground.
Emily, who had remained conscious though she had fallen full on her face, grew irritated at the arguing. She couldn't see what was going on, but she hoped that these would-be rescuers weren't being attacked.
"Can someone help me?" she called, only all that came out was, "Mmmmrrppph mummmph grrrrph mugh?"
Soon she was on her feet, the dazzling figure of a blond elf beside her.
She extended her hand. "I'm Emily," she meant to say, but in opening her mouth, she spewed dirt and grass all over the impeccable, dashing rescuer.
He shook his head in disgust, muttering. "Humans…" Walking back to his companions, he pried the possessors of the small voices, the hobbits, off of Aragorn. They had all leapt on him simultaneously and knocked him to the ground.
Aragorn brushed himself off, which was odd because generally he enjoyed dirtiness. Striding over to Emily, he asked, "Do you know these others?" indicating Mrs. Tocci, Heathcliff, and Cathy.
"Yes, no, and no."
"Can you walk?"
"A little."
Aragorn sighed. "You will walk, even if you are but a weak woman."
"And you will shut up, even if you are but a wannabe king who is easily overcome by children."
"Hobbits!" chorused the hobbits, slightly insulted.
"Hobbits," corrected Emily.
Aragorn looked like he had been slapped in the face. "Hurry up!" he finally commanded, before striding off. Legolas followed after him. A short, stubby fellow with a beard that obviously needed deep conditioning grabbed Mrs. Tocci by the legs and dragged her roughly. They left the ghosts behind, and Emily, swarmed by the four hobbits, made her way to Rivendell, holding back tears, and willing herself not to fall again. She was so emo.
(Non-Disclaimer: Sorry to make Aragorn so insufferable. I didn't mean to! Really, I didn't! And I can promise that he's only in a bad mood, and he'll be happy and noble and Aragorn-y again ASAP!)
