Author's Note—I would like to dedicate this chapter (and a brief scene in the next) to my friend and devoted Glorfy fangirl. Glorfy will prevail!

I would also like to apologize in advance to Arwen fans. We like Arwen. We do. At least, I do. Nevertheless, she was rather easy to make fun of. And make fun of her we did.

THE LORD OF THE RINGTONES – THE E-COMMUNITY OF THE RINGTONE – CHAPTER TWELVE – THE FLIGHT IN A FORD (OR CHEVY, AS THE CASE MAY BE)

When Frodo awoke, he was still clutching the Ringtone. He was lying on Speeder's tailgate by the fire, and his three cohorts were leaning over him.

"What's the matter with you? You don't jump in front of a black man in a buffet line!" Frodo exclaimed.

The other three were so happy to hear him speak that they didn't notice he was spouting random lines from Rush Hour. After much cajoling, Frodo got Sam to tell him the story of the earlier happenings. The Tonewraiths had the hobbits sufficiently weirded out when Sam noticed Frodo had vanished. They all were all looking around for a while when Frodo reappeared with his fount of movie randomness. Speeder had used a magnet to wipe out the Tonewraiths' technology, and having nothing left with which they could attack the hobbits, they left.

Sam was beginning to have doubts about Speeder. When he had returned from destroying the Tonewraiths' technology, Sam drew out his sword and stood over Frodo.

"I am not a Black Driver, Sam," Speeder said gently. "Nor am I in cahoots with them. I'm trying to learn something of how they work, but it's hard. I imagine they have gone to tend to their ailing techie devices. I do not feel their presence."


When Speeder heard Frodo's babblings, he was very concerned. He retreated to his truck, closed all the doors to hopefully avoid the hobbits' tendency to drop eves, and pressed a blue button on his rearview mirror adorned with a four-pointed star. A voice came through the car's speakers.

"Evenstar; this is Elrond. How can I help you?"

"Elrond! This is Aragorn. I have a hobbit by Weatherchannel-dot-com-top that was assailed by a Tonewraith, and he's already losing it. There's a pharmacy fifteen minutes' walking distance away, but I don't know how long he'll last, even with some of our medicine. Can you send anyone to help?"

"Tonewraiths!" Elrond mused. "This is ill news indeed. Very well; I will send Glorfindel over to bring him to Rivendell. He will get him here safely."

Aragorn paused, unsure of how to voice his next sentiment. He went for the short and simple approach. "Not Arwen?" he asked, with a hint of disappointment in his voice.

"Oh, clam it, lover boy. You'll see her soon enough." Elrond cut off the connection.


Aragorn climbed out of his Ranger and looked at the four hobbits. "We will get some help for Frodo very soon. You stay here with Frodo. If you think you hear anything icky approaching, lock yourselves in the car. Keep the fire going and keep Frodo warm! I shall return."
Approximately fifteen minutes later, Aragorn arrived at the pharmacy. The cashier only knew enough common tongue to rattle off prices and show people the location of the bathroom, so he started wandering down the aisles looking for some Oloft-zay, an Elvish medication that would surely get Frodo out of his state of depression. Unfortunately, it was quite difficult to find.

Zinc supplement? he read, wandering down the Z aisle. Zirconium dust? Zulu Gatherings? Zxuxuxuxupxu? It should be somewhere here…

Speeder's whole body tensed as he felt cold, sharp metal against his neck.

"What's this?" a gently teasing female voice questioned. "A Ranger, caught off his guard?"

Speeder turned around to gaze upon his lady love, Arwen. "How did you get here? I thought they were sending Glorfindel."

Arwen huffed. "I'm sick of simply being the pretty girl in Rivendell. And besides, Glorfindel was… busy."

Speeder was a bit confused, but he decided he'd rather not know. He spotted a bottle of the medicine lodged well into the h section and, giving the foreign clerk too much money as all real men in a hurry do, sped out the door to Arwen's car.


Aragorn had forgotten how bad Arwen was at taking directions. Fifteen minutes and several detours later, they arrived at Weatherchannel-dot-com-top and emerged from the car.

"Look!" Merry pointed to Speeder. "Who's that?"

"Speeder," Pippin observed.

"But who's the girl?" Merry hissed.

"Mrs. Speeder?" Pippin guessed.

Mystery Woman tucked her hair behind her ear, revealing her trademarked pointy ears.

Sam gasped. "She's an elf!"


Arwen knelt by Frodo. His eyes were glassy and unfocused—quite common for Tonewraith victims. She began to speak soothingly.

"Odo-fray. I am Arwen… Ear-hay y-may oice-vay. Ome-cay into-hay e-thay ight-lay. Ome-cay into-hay e-thay ight-lay."

"Are you sure that's a good idea, Arwen?" Aragorn whispered nervously.

"I know what I'm doing!" she hissed back.

Frodo at first seemed to calm slightly. Then, suddenly, he started screaming. "Trevor the Treo! Vicky the Verizon! Candy the Comcast Cable Box! The horror! THE HORROR!"

Upon hearing the sickly alliterated names, Arwen and Aragorn involuntarily twitched. Not having the actual devices to contend with, however, they could recover quite easily.

"The Tonewraiths have weirded him out," Arwen diagnosed. "We must get him to my father." She gently picked him up and laid him down in the backseat of her Chevy Impala.

"Hey!" An indignant male voice rang out, weirding everyone out. A wild-haired elf leaped from the trees and pointed accusingly at Arwen. "You. You took my job!"

Speeder glanced at Arwen. "So they did really send Glorfindel!"

Glorfindel glared at the she-elf. "I'm sick of your stupid feminist warrior-princess garbage!" he spat. "Let me take the Halfling."

Arwen drew her sword, wondering howmanaged to freehimself from the chair to which she'd duct-taped him. "No way."

Glorfindel snorted. "Arwen, you can't even parallel park. And somehow I don't think you know how to use that sword, either."

Speeder whistled. "Hey, guys! Not to be a nudge, but do you realize that there are nine Tonewraiths after us?"

"There are three after you," Arwen clarified. "I do knot know where the other five are."

Merry quickly counted on his fingers. "That's only eight."

Arwen redoubled the calculations on her own fingers. "I don't know where the last one is, either," she added quickly.

Glorfindel took advantage of Arwen's distraction and slid into the driver's seat. "Thank you," he said smoothly.

"Hey!" Arwen shrieked.

Glorfindel rolled the window down and smirked at her. "Arwen, unless you want to rough it with the guys, hop in with me."

"I can handle it," she sniffed, glaring at the elf that was so chauvinistic to steal her job.

"No showers," Glorfindel warned.

"I can take it," she announced, but she seemed less resolute.

"You'll smudge your eye liner," Speeder added.

"I can do it," she retorted, more trying to convince herself than anyone else.

Glorfindel gave her a knowing smile. "You're gonna ruin your shoes…"

Arwen fought with that for a while. "…Oh, all right," she finally conceded, climbing into the passenger's seat.


Arwen fumed at Glorfindel for much of the ride to Rivendell. How dare he steal her thunder? She was going to show the world how brave and powerful they she-elfs could be.

"Uh-oh," Glorfindel broke into and commandeered Arwen's train of thought.

"What?" Arwen asked absently.

"Black Drivers." Glorfindel tapped the window.

"We're in an Impala; they're in Vipers," Arwen pointed out, fear rising in her voice.

"Really? You think?" Glorfindel asked sarcastically.

"We can't outrun them!" Arwen shrieked.

"And you thought you'd be better at this than I am," Glorfindel said amusedly.

"Glorfindel!"

"Hold on!" Glorfindel said. He punched the accelerator. "Ramming speed!"

Even so, the Tonewraiths caught up with them quickly. They raced to the river, and Glorfindel drove through it. The Drivers stayed on the other side.

"Give up the Halfling!" one of them yelled.

Arwen saw her chance to shine. She rolled her window down and stuck her head out. "If you want him," she shouted back, "come and claim him!"

The Tonewraiths began to advance. "Nice move, she-elf!" Glorfindel snapped.

Arwen closed her eyes and murmured mysterious Elvish words. Nothing happened.

"Idiot!" Glorfindel floored the accelerator. "You know the waters are at your father's command! Not yours!"

Just as they left the river with the Black Drivers on their tailpipe, water crashed down on the nine Vipers, carrying them down the river and destroying their cars.

Arwen sat back in her seat, a satisfied smirk on her face. Glorfindel was speechless.