Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognize. (holds up hands with terrified expression) I do own myself and my literary genius. (gets up and bows low)

Chapter 1: Clueless

Legolas, Gimli and Aragorn had been running for almost 1 day straight.

Legolas had kept his eyes fixed on the horizon, Aragorn ran nearly double, searching for any clue as to what had happened to Merry and Pippin, and Gimli wasn't particularly helpful as all he could think about was "Keep breathing! That's the key! Breathe!"

They ran. And ran. And ran. Until, out of the Blue, things started to happen.

Aragorn found a banana. He sniffed it, and, smiling, remembered Gandalf's words to Merry: "If all else fails, always follow your nose."

With his extraordinary ability to scientifically name anything at first sniff, he said authoritatively:

"Look, my friends! Not idly do the bananas of Argentina fall. This did not drop by chance: it was cast away as a token to any that might follow."

He then promptly started off again, while downing the banana, and mumbling something about how beneficial Calcium was for keeping up strength.

After finishing, he tossed the peel behind him, and spontaneously heard a "!?#! Ooof!" from Legolas.

Aragorn grinned.

4 HOURS LATER:

The sun had sank, and it was now almost pitch dark. The orcs had long since passed beyond the horizon, and consequently Legolas' sight. There was now some debate as to whether they should go on and follow the Orcs' trail in the dark, or should rest and revive their strength until the morrow.

Aragorn was lost in thought about the matter when a square of yellow paper caught his eye. He walked over to the rock where it was. He gingerly picked it up, and read in hastily scribbled lines:

You may rest now. If you keep going, you will only diminish your strength. Not to mention the fact that you are destined to meet Someone tomorrow, and if you run all night you'll look as if you've been through a salad spinner, and this Person will not be very impressed. Please take this advice!

Yours Truly

P.S. If there are things you do not understand, always remember that in the end, Everything is Illuminated.

Aragorn looked up from the note. Neither Legolas nor Gimli had seen him read it. He stuck it in his pocket and cleared his throat.

"We will not walk in the dark. The peril of missing the trail or other signs of coming and going seems to me the greater... Well, I have chosen. So let us use the time as best we may!"

With that he cast himself on the ground and fell at once into sleep.

7 HOURS LATER:

The Three Hunters felt refreshed after their sleep, and after eating some pop-tarts acquired in Lorien, started off after their quarry once again.

After the sun completed her ride across the sky, once again the weary travelers lay down to rest the night away.

10 HOURS LATER:

The morning dawned, clear and cold. Aragorn looked around from atop the hill where they had spent the night. Suddenly he caught sight of a dark, swift-moving blur on the distant green. He flung himself to the ground and, pressing his ear to the turf, listened intently.

"Toothbrushes!" he cried, springing to his feet. "Many toothbrushes upon swift steeds are coming towards us!"

His companions looked at him strangely.

He was getting annoyed, and said irritably, "What?"

Legolas said tentatively, "Nay, brother, there are riders, one hundred and five of them. Yellow is their hair, and bright are there spears. Their leader is very tall."

Aragorn smiled, and decided to forget the fact that a prince had just corrected a king.

"Keen are the eyes of the Elves," he said.

They agreed to sit in the grass and wait for the horsemen to pass.

In pairs they galloped by, and though every now and then one rose in his stirrups and gazed ahead and to either side, they appeared not to perceive the three strangers sitting silently and watching them. The host had almost passed when suddenly Aragorn stood up, and called in a loud voice:

"Riders of Rohan! What news from the Mark?"

With surprising speed and agility, the 105-now-miraculously-multiplied to 2,000 horsemen surrounded the Three Hunters. One, seemingly the leader, rode forward, then dismounted and while absent-mindedly flicking some earwax off his finger, asked:

"What business does an elf, a man and a Dwarf have in the Riddermark? Speak quickly!"

Some near-violence ensued between him and Gimli, and the Riders took the opportunity to apply some much-needed deodorant and and OFF! Mosquito Spray.

After a short conversation with Aragorn & co., Éomer son of Éomund came to a better understanding of their purposes and loaned them 2 horses ("To be sent when called for"), after which he and his 105-miraculously-multiplied-to-2,000 horsemen rode off, leaving the Hunters to whatever hope they had left.

Author's Note: Well here's chapter one! It took me about a month to get around to posting this. It gets a little vague near the end, but I was writing at like 12:00 am and so my imagination drive was about shot. Ah well.

Byebye all Lucie aka ArchimedesFactotum