KT SHY: AUGH! I didn't even think about it review-blocking when I replaced the old chapters with new ones! Lets all give Starbrat a hearty round of applause for reviewing anyway! (KT & Shagster: clap, clap, clap) Glad to see you again! ^____^ I can't get through a chapter without seeing your happy signature on a review! I'd also like to extend a large thank you to new readers Yugure, Makura Koneko, spoke, Eve of Mirkwood, Fernie and gandolegonliodorypinieita…. Yeeee! Glad you enjoyed it! And Miyako Inoue, Queen of Cheese you are incredible! *runs around screaming* You read it all in one day! And you… (sniffle)… added me to your favourites list… (sob) I'm getting choked up over here! SpamWarrior, I thank you so much for the kind review. I promise to do my best to deliver nothing but top quality fanfic-yness in my fanfics! Oh and Sammy… you are as insane as always, I lurv youuuu!

Eye on the Prize

Act VIII: The Tall Troop

They had been running for three days. Three days. Aragorn at the head of the troop, keen Ranger senses picking up the ridiculously obvious trail of orc prints. Legolas following close behind, moving swiftly and easily. Boromir ran at the back of the troop, blowing the Hero-Theme on the Horn of Gondor (also known in this realm as Track #5 from TTT).

'Bvvrrrr bvr bvr bvrrr bvr bvr bvvvrrrrrr…'

'Boromir!'

'Vrtt?' Boromir put down the horn and looked at the Ranger. 'Whaaaaaaaat?'

Aragorn had halted, his right hand raised in a gesture of silence. He looked at the Elf who understood his meaning. Legolas pricked up his finely pointed ears and listened…

'Horses!'

The three quickly dove for cover, using the landscape as camouflage and then covered themselves with their Lórien cloaks. A mass of riders - one hundred and four by Legolas' count - sped by in a cloud of dust, the sun glinting off the tips of menacing spears.

'It is the Riders of Rohan,' Aragorn whispered to his companions, 'We're in luck!' He threw aside his cloak and ran into the open, waving enthusiastically. 'HI!' The Riders checked their speed instantly. Clop, clop, clop gallop, gallopgallopgallopGALLOP! In an instant the three were surrounded. Aragorn put up his hands defensively, 'I didn't say I was!'

The Riders sat stonily upon powerful steeds, spears aimed at the trio's midsections, but their eyes were focused a little bit away, to the path they had just ridden. A tall man came running into view, the white horse tail on his helm hanging half in his face. He puffed up to the scene, bent over with his hands on his knees while taking deep breaths, then stood up completely composed and stared at the three companions.

'What business does a Man, an Elf and a Dwarf have in the Riddermark,' he paused a moment confused - 'Why'd I say that?' - then shrugged it off. 'What business does two Men and an Elf have in these lands.' It wasn't really a question. The words seemed to accuse them of dark deeds. They stood there at a loss for what to say when Boromir, moving ever so slightly to catch the eye of the tall man, waved sheepishly at him.

'Ah! Boromir of Gondor! Well met again!' The man grinned at the Gondorian, then gestured for the Riders to put away their spears. Legolas scratched nervously at his arm as the sharp tips drew back. The tall man ran over to clasp Boromir's arm in a friendly fashion. 'When the horse we lent you on your journey to Rivendell returned riderless, well, we began to wonder…'

'No need for worries, Éomer of Rohan…'

Aragorn walked up to the two. 'Forgive my briskness Horse-lord, but we are pressed for time. We've been following a trail of orcs bearing the White Hand for the better part of nearly four days. They have one of our friends with them, a hobbit-'

'Don't you mean two?'

'No, just one hobbit.'

Éomer scratched his head. He was feeling some kind of 6th-sense, backwards-déjà vu coming on. Aragorn took his puzzled look to be in regards to wondering what a hobbit was.

'He'd be small, only a child to your eyes.'

Éomer's face suddenly went grim as recent events came to his mind. 'A child eh?…..………….yours?'

Aragorn stared at him for a moment, then rationalized that there was no point in making things any more complicated then they were. 'Yeah.'

'Then you owe me a new horse.'

Okay, Aragorn thought, bad start.

'The orcs we slew a plenty,' Éomer pointed in the direction from whence they had ridden. 'The child stole my horse and rode back that way.' he pointed in the direction from where Aragorn, Legolas, and Boromir had come. The three crouched into an instant huddle.

'So he got away! Great!' whispered an excited Boromir. But the look on Aragorn's face was troubling. 'What?'

'It gladdens my heart that Frodo's away from danger, but still our primary concern is to the Ring.'

Boromir stared at the Ranger in dismay. 'You don't honestly think he would have left it behind do you!?'

'I can't be certain... but Frodo has been acting… odd since our stay in the tavern at the beginning of our Fellowship journey. We can't risk it.'

The three stood up to face Éomer.

'Did the child have anything of value on him?' asked Aragorn, 'Any trinkets? Gold jewelry?'

Boromir cut in, 'Were you ever come over by an unexplainable urge to mug him of any possessions?'

Éomer blinked. 'Eh?'

The three formed a huddle again. Boromir's face was set. 'He shows no sign of Ring-seduction.'

Aragorn lifted an eyebrow. 'It's uncanny how you can tell so quickly... anyway, we must go to the scene of the battle to make certain no orcs ran off into the forest with the prize, or that it isn't simply sitting there amidst the ruin.'

'Right,' affirmed Legolas.

'If we find no trace of it, then we'll ride off to find Frodo and the others and re-forge the Fellowship. I'm just being cautious.'

They stood up again. Aragorn turned to Éomer. 'We must be off.'

'Hold a moment!' came the Rider's response. 'Boromir I know, but who are you, I wonder? I have every right to be suspicious in my people's own lands.'

Aragorn had been waiting for this. 'This is Legolas of the Woodland realm… and I-' he pulled out Andúril, the broken-sword-forged-again, blazing in the sunlight '- am Aragorn, son of Arathorn, the heir of Isildur, Elendil's son of Gondor!'

The Riders of Rohan gave a collective gasp. Éomer looked over at Boromir who gave a yes, yes he is, just humor him kind of nod.

'Legends to life,' the horseman murmured. 'So be it. I am Éomer, Third Marshal of the Riddermark. Is there anyway I can aid you in your journey, lord, aside from accompanying you? For open war draws near to us, and I must be by the King's side.'

'I only ask whether there are mounts you can spare us, for we have traveled a long way by foot.'

Éomer nodded, then gave a low whistle. Two horses trotted forward. 'This is Hasufel and this is Arod. Their riders were slain in battle.' The three companions and the horses shook hands.

Aragorn gave a quizzical look to Éomer who himself was mount-less, but the man simply put up a hand. 'Mine is the only horse I shall ride.' His face grew graver as he approached the Ranger. 'Prove to me, Aragorn son of Arathorn, that I am not a man twice easily fooled. Return them to us when you are done. Return them to the Golden Hall of the King. I look to meeting again with you there, under better tidings. I wish you luck.'

He strode to the front of the column of Riders. 'Do not trust to hope though… it is forsaken in these times.' And with that, Éomer son of Éomund, Third Marshal of the Riddermark ran off in a clanking of armor, the rest of the Rohirrim ridding close behind.

***

There was much confusion amongst the three as to who was to ride which horse. In the end it was decided Boromir ride with Legolas - who weighed practically nothing being an Elf - upon Hasufel, the larger horse of the two. Aragorn mounted the smaller one, Arod. For a moment the horses simply stood there slightly puzzled as if they had felt the natural harmony of the universe become slightly askew, but like Éomer before them, they shrugged it off.

With a spurring cry Aragorn urged Arod forward. Legolas leaned over gently and whispered in Hasufel's ear. The horse whinnied, and moved from trot, to canter, to gallop in an instant.

'Bl.. (cough) ack, gah, I'm geffin your haiw in mah mouf!' hollered Boromir.

'DEAL WITH IT!' Legolas had far less patience with humans.

They rode hard until they came within sight of the battle. Legolas cringed at the stench coming from the charred pile of Uruk flesh. Aragorn dismounted mid stride and landed with a rise of smoke and ash. He placed his hands to the earth, sifted through it in some kind of strange Ranger custom then dusted them off. He stood up and sniffed the air; the other two ran to his side.

'How are we going to find it in all this?' Legolas was gesturing to the orc pile and the trampled grounds all around them.

Aragorn scratched at his stubble-covered chin as if in deep thought. Then he slapped his hand down on Boromir's shoulder. 'Boromir. You know the feel of the Ring, correct?'

'What, you mean how the presence of it haunts my very existence, my every waking and dreaming moment? Yeah, I'd say so.'

Aragorn pulled out his pipe and began to prepare it. He sat down, took a few life-sucking puffs, then looked up at the man. 'Then we'll have to leave it to you. See if you can feel its drawing power. Cover every inch of this clearing and if you feel it,' he gave the man a serious you-better-not-grab-and-run look, 'call to us right away.'

Within a few hours Aragorn felt himself roused from a light nap. He hadn't meant to dose off, but lord was he tired. Legolas pointed over to Boromir who was heading back in their direction.

'Well, it's definitely not here... what now?'

'I had hoped it wouldn't have come to this. We have to look at the possibility that the Ring may have been carried away from here.' The Ranger stood unsteadily, but shook it off. 'I'll have to follow the tracks.'

'But… I've been walking all over this place!' interjected Boromir.

'Well then for all our sakes we're lucky you don't have orc or hobbit feet! Don't worry, I'll be able to tell the difference.'

Aragorn bent down to the ground, and all his Ranger senses flared. He muttered quietly to himself leaving the others to shrug at each other, then follow at a safe distance. Aragorn began to retrace the steps of Sauron.

Frodo went over here… then here, and here. He tripped over this guy, who's wallet indicates him as being a Mister Grishnákh… hmm, obviously the Rohirrim weren't so thorough in their spring cleaning. No matter. He ran this way… then into another figure who judging by the kink in his ankle-track learned the"two-step"at the age of twenty-nine… and then the survivors all started running backwards…………… I suppose it makes sense. I remember noticing that their armor didn't cover their backs, only their fronts; because orcs never turn and flee from battle. Odd… these tracks seem to be getting older and the numbers have sporadically increased as well… meh, probably just the lack of sleep affecting my brain. Man these Uruk-Hai run backwards VERY well…

Back in the real world Legolas looked nervously at Boromir. 'Is it just me, or has he stumbled upon their incoming path?'

'SHHH' hissed Boromir, 'the man's a professional, we can't mess with his viiiiiiibe!' He shook his hands to emphasize the last part. Legolas backed away ever so slowly.

***

Back in Barad-dûr the Witch-king was trying so very hard to maintain his composure. The giant eye that was Frodo hovered an inch behind his armchair, lidless and staring.

'I seeeeeee yoooooooooooooou!'

The Witch-king could feel the armrests of his chair crack and snap as he dug into them with his gauntlet covered hands. Guys, he hissed in a silent prayer to the other eight Nazgûl, you better hurry back with the Master. I can't take much more of this.'

***

… and they took no brakes, what manner of beasts can run so far and long? They even seem to run backwards faster the farther they go! They must have gotten the Ring, it's the only explanation for such bizarre behavior--OW!

The last comment came as Aragorn smacked into something solid and, obviously, painful. He rubbed his head with a curse and looked up to see what he had run into.

'Oh shoot!'

It was Orthanc.

There was no mistaking that black exterior.

Aragorn looked over his shoulder at the other two, who stood gaping at the sheer height of the tower. He turned his gaze upward as well, just in time to see a large balcony window thrown violently open.

' 'THE HELL!?' Saruman - who had felt the vibration of Aragorn's contact with the base of Orthanc shimmy all the way up and disturb his dessert - stood upon the balcony, long white hair flowing all about him. In his right hand was a spoon of Jell-O… still jiggling madly.

In contrast to his very pale exterior, a figure dressed entirely in garments of midnight shade rushed out behind him. 'Look my lord, it's 3/9ths of the Fellowship!' Saruman shoved the man back inside before Aragorn could get a clear view of him. The Ranger felt so groggy, but it was time to act as leader again.

'Saruman! I've followed this trail diligently, so there's no point in keeping anything from me! Where are you hiding the orcs!?' he shouted up at the wizard.

Saruman looked completely baffled for a minute. He stared down at the little spec of a Ranger and the two dumbstruck others. He then looked off to the way they had come, through the ring of tree stumps and past his gates. He didn't even want to imagine how they'd gotten past the sentries. Then he figured out what the mad little man down below must have been babbling about.

'You damn fool! I sent them from here! You've been following the tracks backward!'

'You lie!'

'Nuh uh!'

'Yah huuuuuuuuh!'

'I'm confused.' Legolas confessed to Boromir. The man only shrugged, 'Hey, you're blond.'

'Enough!' Saruman shouted down at them again, 'It's time I put you meddlers in your place-' He was cut off as the figure in black rushed out holding something spherical. 'I'LL SAVE YOU MASTER!' the figure threw the object with surprising strength coupled with gravity. Legolas snapped out of his stupor just in time to dive at Aragorn, shoving him out of the way before the object came crashing down on his foot. Up above the light figure rounded on the dark one.

'YOU STUPID IDIOT!'

'B..but..'

'THE PALANTÍR IS NOT FOR THROWING!'

'Yes b…'

From where he had fallen Aragorn had a clear view of the Palantír. He could feel his eyes being drawn into its mysterious depths. Legolas and Boromir were shouting words at him but they sounded so far away. All that seemed tangible was the swirling darkness. Then the blackness was replaced by a ring of fire and within it, a burning Eye of flame. The Eye spoke to him.

S…Strider?

'……………………………………………Frodo!?' then he felt the connection tear as Legolas hauled him up and literally began beating some sense into the Ranger.

'The Ring's not here, Saruman's about to unleash Isengard on us, we must leave now, NOW!' Legolas and Boromir picked up the prone Aragorn and the three fled back along the path they had originally followed, leaving the maniacal wizard to shamelessly berate the moronical minion.

'Mastah... (oof) they're escaping! Master, use your (ow! ow! Not the wrists!) powers to blow them away!'

'Dammit man, I'm a wizard not a magician!'

Saruman savagely gritted his teeth as his mind ran over possible courses of immediate action to take. He managed to calm himself down considerably. He spoke in a deep lulling voice. 'What does it matter… they learned nothing of what we're conducting here in Isengard. I'll send out another small patrol to slay them… just to be safe. You on the other hand-' he rounded on the trembling man once again. 'You better be getting back to Rohan. As much as I appreciate your inane updates, I have much at stake there. Now go.'

The man bowed again and again as he backed away from the menacing figure in white.

'Many colours!' shouted Saruman.

'Pardon my lord?'

'Nothing. Make sure you bring the Palantír up safely… and for your sake it had better not be as damaged as it looks.'

***

That day two troops of Uruk-Hai set off from Isengard at a horrifying pace. The arrival of the three-baffled-Fellowship-members had rekindled Saruman's confidence - albeit, after totally confusing him at first. That they had come all the way in such a desperate state proved to him beyond a doubt that his fighting Uruk-Hai had indeed laid hold upon the halfling Ring Bearer. The Uruks hadn't returned yet though, and so he was sending out reinforcements to aid them. That was troop number one.

He grinned coldly, and rubbed his aged hands together. They were like iron rods stretched over with parchment, wrinkled and dusty.

The Ring was so close at hand. To his hand. To the White hand of Saruman.

Another thing that had heartened him was that only three had come of the nine that had set out together. It implied that Gandalf wasn't the only Fellowship member to kick the proverbial bucket. His second troop of Uruk-Hai was sent to ensure that the Elf and two Men rejoined their fallen comrades. Only the Ring Bearer would be left alive. For how long? Well, Saruman supposed that all depended on the hobbit's pain-threshold.

***

They ran blindly into Fangorn at the northern edge of Isengard, intent on reaching their horses in the shortest possible distance. There was no time to worry over the superstitions that surrounded the woods. The three could feel the urgent travel of the past days weighing heavily on their legs. Even Legolas was weary, which said nothing for Boromir who was half gone already. Every time he stumbled he was more and more tempted to lie on the soft grasses and let his sore eyes rest.

Aragorn was only slightly better off, but he was in a strange, surreal state of mind where physical things had become painfully clear, and things of the subconscious strayed in and out of his line of vision. It was hard to tell whether the din he was hearing was the feet of pursuing aggressors or whether it was the pound, pound, pounding of his brain trying to stubbornly squeeze through his temples.

Legolas gave a great cry, 'Ai! We cannot out run them.' He stopped mid-step and whipped out his bow knocking two arrows into it and letting them fly with a musical fwang! It was answered by only one death screech and Legolas cursed in his native tongue at the miss.

Aragron drew Andúril. It felt so heavy. He gave Legolas a weak smile. 'I suppose you wouldn't have any lembas on you, would you?'

Legolas grinned, 'An excellent suggestion!' he hastily pulled a wafer out of his pocket, removed the leaf wrapping and broke it into three pieces. They ate every last crumb. The footsteps drew nearer.

'I can feel my strength restoring!' Boromir cheered.

'Then it's time to put it to good use.' said Aragorn, lifting his blade up slowly… slowly…

Two dozen Uruk-Hai burst into view, frenzied and fierce.

'FOR MIRKWOOD!' cried Legolas.

'FOR GONDOR!' hollered Boromir.

'FOR-'

A blinding light burst between the two opposing parties and they fell back at its brilliance. The steel weapons in the orc hands flared red with fire and they shrieked in pain, dropping them. Then one of the Uruks spontaneously combusted on the spot. The others stared in shock at the charred remains until they turned and ran in fear, the terrible white fire chasing them, biting them.

Spots danced before Aragorn's eyes and he rubbed at them, willing them to go away. The brightness dimmed a fraction so he could see the vague outline of a white robbed man.

'Look Saruman, I don't know what your playing at…'

'Oh,' said a very un-Saruman voice, 'I know it's been a while, but you really shouldn't be mistaking me with him!'

Aragorn choked, he could feel the tears coming as the light withdrew into the figure.

'Gandalf!'

***

The setting sun cast her last glance upon the four travelers before tucking in for the night. They were settled around a good-sized fire just outside of Fangorn, their faces warm and bright. The satisfying crackle and smoky sizzle accompanied by the beginnings of cricket song permeated the air along with the occasional whicker from Hasufel and Arod. It looked to be a starry night.

After a very emotional reunion Gandalf had been quickly pressed by the others to explain start to finish all that had happened to him since his fall in Moria. In truth he found himself telling the same story three times over as the group kept falling asleep at different intervals, but he indulged them. Only now were they all at least semi-alert and caught up with the tale.

Aragorn then told Gandalf of the state of the Fellowship and all that had occurred. Lothlórien. The capture of Frodo. The chase of the Uruk-Hai. The confrontation of Saruman, and his own vision within the Palantír. Gandalf remained silent and expressionless through it all, but when the Ranger finished, he narrowed his eyes and stared darkly into the fire.

'There is no easy way to explain this Aragorn... but what you saw in the Palantír is indeed what you silently suspect.' he raised a hand at Aragorn's attempt to protest. 'I can hear the words hidden between your own. Whether you choose to voice them or not. Listen all of you. When I was granted a second life, many things previously hidden were revealed to me by the great beings beyond time. All along the enemy has been in our midst. Our small friend Frodo was spirited away from us months ago. His spirit is held, locked away in the Dark Tower of Barad-dûr at this very moment - a prisoner of war in this most final battle.'

The others were completely alert now and utterly at a loss for anything to say. It was too unreal to be believable.

'What deceptive evil is at work here?' Legolas whispered in shocked horror.

'It is true. It is Sauron who has deceived us, cleverly concealing his tainted soul within Frodo's shell. Hiding the truth of his identity and waiting until the chance when he could flee with the Ring, back to his black throne.'

'Actually,' Boromir cut in, 'now that I come to recall it, he wasn't really hiding it at all… more like flaunting it.'

Gandalf gave Boromir a very dangerous look. 'Like I said it was CLEVERLY CONCEALED.'

'No really, he even told us who he wa…'

Gandalf smacked Boromir across the shoulders with his Wizard Staff. First Saruman, now Sauron, he refused to be wrong twice in one epic.

With one evil eye still fixed on the Gondorian, Gandalf continued. 'I knew he was being taken near Fangorn and so I sent my good friend the Lord of the Eagles to warn the Ents that dwell there - for you see I had more pressing matters to attend to. They were supposed to only hold the Dark Lord prisoner until I could return, but they chose that most crucial time to be hasty.'

Aragorn blinked. '"More pressing matters?" What other matters could have been more important than this!?'

'Well… you see… murmurmumblemuttermutter.'

Aragorn turned to Legolas who shrugged. Even his Elven hearing hadn't picked that up.

Cryptic wizards make marvelous excuses for plot holes.

Aragorn stood up quickly. 'If what you say is indeed truth Gandalf - and believe me, I would never doubt your word - then we must head out now! Sauron is on horseback and rides Eastward as we speak! We can catch him…'

'Don't fret Aragorn. Things are not so dire as you think. Already he is stumbling into the beginnings of a trap I have laid out, and if I do say so myself, it is quite a clever trap indeed!'

Pause.

'So clever that you won't tell us a word of it, right?' said the Ranger with a raised eyebrow.

Gandalf chose that moment to start acting senile and distracted, so Aragorn simply shook his head and sat down again.

All was quiet for a time until Legolas voiced a concern that had been growing on his mind. 'Gandalf, you seem to know much now. What do you know of Gimli and the hobbits? What has happened to our small companions?'

Gandalf smoothed back his long white hair, and a look of sadness and confusion crossed his face.

'Alas, I cannot see them quite so well in my mind, friend Legolas. They are far from the place of your urgent parting. They are safe at present... yes, safe. But I'm afraid that is all the information I can give... though I fear they stray nearer to peril with each passing day.' He took in their fallen looks and then gave an encouraging smile. 'Trust to hope. It endures especially in dark times.'

The Wizard gave a knowing wink and then chuckled. 'But there is need in Rohan! Foul powers are at work that we must right… if the people of this proud land are to survive these dark times. After that we ride to Gondor to return Boromir and aid where we can.'

Gandalf stood in a fluid motion, white robes gently swirling at his feet. The other three stood up as well, though unsteadily.

Gandalf sighed as if dealing with stubborn children. 'No, no. You will sleep tonight, for there will be no time to sleep after tomorrow. Begin your journey at sunrise.  I will ride ahead now and meet you within the courts of Edoras.'

Aragorn, Boromir and Legolas began to fidget uncertainly as Gandalf approached the two horses, gently petting their snouts.

'But Gandalf…' began Legolas eyeing the horses, 'the three of us can't all ride back on one horse.'

'Yeah,' said Boromir, 'Think of our reputations!'

'Don't worry,' said Gandalf, 'I have my own horse. In fact it's time I go to him. You three sleep now. I'll see you in Rohan!'

***

Meanwhilst, at the Gondorian/Mordor border…

The large, cobbled and well-used road was flanked on either side by two wooden booths. The black silhouette of tall, leafy trees contrasted nicely against the deep blue of the night sky and the only lights present were that of the stars and the burning torches that lined the road. Walbert, the Gondorian Customs Official, peered out of the booth on the left, a cup of warm ale in one hand. The sound of approaching mounts drew near. Walbert put down his mug on the table, picked up a lantern, and went out to meet the travelers.

'All right now. Anything you boys want to declare?'

The eight Nazgûl looked at one another, slightly wary. They dismounted and stood beside the huge serpentine beats they had been riding.

'Nooo, noothhiing.'

'All right then. What is the reason for your stay in Gondor, business or pleasure?'

'Boooottthhhh.'

'And I suppose you all have your health insurance covered?'

He was met by eight blank and hooded stares.

'Oh come on now, don't tell me you never picked up any health insurance? I don't know what kind of benefits you get in Mordor but there's no coverage here. If you guys get injured you pay up-front and personally.'

'Fiiiine, fiiiine. Jusssst let us passsssss.'

'No it's NOT fine! You guys strike me as being in a bit of a hurry, but let me tell you that nothing's worth rushing out for without taking care of the possible risks.'

'Really.' Said one flatly.

'Really! If you get health insurance today you'll find that the task you've set out to do will be more enjoyable because any paranoia about "what if" and "oh dear" will be taken care of to ensure maximum comfort.'

'I know some tassssks I'd enjoy putting yoooou throoough.' Muttered another Nazgûl.

'Pardon?'

'Noooothing, noooothing. Look, we're not exactly paaaaranoid…'

'Not now sure, but let me tell you, that if the situation arises where any of your party comes into injury you could end up loosing your luxuries, homes, even those things you ride just to pay for the expenses… now if you ask me…'

'FINE!' shrieked a Nazgûl, 'We'll buy ssssome bloody, bloody health insuranccccce!'

Walbert the Gondorian Border Guy punched the air in triumph. 'YES! And you boys are in luck too, it just so happens that I sell health insurance-'

'Imaaaagine that.'

'- so step right this way!' He gave a scary little giggle then ran into the booth on the right side of the road, ready for business.

To be continued…

KT SHY: some of you might be asking, 'Wait a minute, in act five the Nazgûl were in a tavern ordering omelets, how come they're only just now crossing the border between Gondor and Mordor?' To answer this question, I've brought in a seasoned expert. Gandalf!

Gandalf: Well you see kids, murmur murmur mumble…

KT SHY: Thanks for clearing things up for us.

More KT SHY: Long eh? GYAAAH! As always, don't be afraid to tell me if you found something-unsettling plot wise or poorly worded. I do go back and fix these! Suggestions are what reviews are all about. If I were afraid of criticism I wouldn't have posted… I'd probably have just… I dunno, eaten cheesecake instead or something. On a chirpy-er note I'VE BECOME ADDICTED TO ANIMAL CROSSING! I didn't mean to and goodness knows I'll never find time to play… but, meh. My person's name is Frodo and I've started a cult devoted to the Church of Sauron. It's got T-shirts, umbrellas, wallpaper, and fliers sporting the ever-so-pretty-eye-surrounded-by-fire-insignia EVERYWHERE! Those silly animals just need to understand that joining my cult is the only way to save their souls from eternal damnation.

Thanks for reading! And goodnight! *dives under the covers*

Shagster: I can't think!