Oh my god. I can't believe I haven't updated in over six months. I am so sorry. Everything's just been so nuts lately. Anyway, I hope you enjoy!

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"I didn't mean it! I was just upset. I never thought it was true!"

"Please, my lady, calm down."

"You know, I thought I'd hate it here. But this being dead stuff- it isn't half bad. Kind of like a soap opera that's always on whenever you want."

"Pippin, shut up!" Merry and Pippin were watching while Boromir, Faramir, Éomer and Éowyn tried to console Arwen.

"Please, Arwen, I'm sure he still loves you. He's just confused right now," Éowyn assured her. Arwen threw herself on the bed, sobbing. "But he wouldn't be confused if I hadn't kicked him out!"

Éowyn turned to the boys, exasperated. But before anyone could say anything more, they heard a loud thump from somewhere outside.

"Oh, not you again," someone yelled.

They could hear someone coming down the hall. The door flew open and there was Gandalf.

"Gandalf!" Merry and Pippin cried. "Have you brought us pipe weed?"

"Ah, no."

"Oh."

"Weren't you just here?" Boromir asked suspiciously.

"I will have you know it has been nearly one hundred years since I last died."

"How did it happen this time?" Faramir questioned casually.

"I'm not sure, I was drunk," Gandalf answered distractedly. "What is that horrible noise?" He noticed Arwen, still sobbing on the bed. "Oh."

Arwen looked up. "I pushed Aragorn away, and now he'll never come back."

"Well, why don't you just go to him?"

"What?"

"Sure. I have to go home soon. I'll take you with me."

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It was about (time reckoning was difficult) two mortal days before Gandalf was ready to go. Everyone was waiting for him with various amounts of luggage.

"For dead people, you have an awful lot of baggage," he remarked, smirking at something that he alone seemed to understand. "You do realize I can't bring all this?"

"What?" Arwen gasped, eyes widening in shock. "Are you suggesting I leave my Givenchy perfume behind?"

They blinked at her.

"I'm sure we'll be able to find you more," Gandalf promised, still looking at her strangely.

Boromir leaned over as they walked down the hall, luggage, left behind. "How did you manage to get Givenchy perfume here?"

"I was an elf," she retorted snottily. "Special privileges."

Gandalf looked over the assembled crowd, consisting of three men, one woman, one former elf queen, and two hobbits. "Everyone ready?" It didn't really matter if they were, because-

BAM.

They were all crumbled in a heap on the floor, except for Gandalf, who was laughing at them. They were in a white room, with a fuzzy floor and a long table. And there, sitting at the table, was Elrohir. He looked up. "You know, I would normally be surprised to find you here. Or concerned. Or something. But right now, nothing surprises me. And I'm too exhausted to express emotion." He looked it, too. Odd thumping sounds started next door, and Elrohir's head fell face-first into the desk, as he made a sound that seemed remarkably like a whimper. He sighed and got heavily to his feet, slamming his fist against the wall twice. "I told you to stop doing that in public earshot!" he yelled.

"Sorry," called back the voices of Elrond and Glorfindel.

Elrohir shuddered, and walked to the door with an odd limp. When he reached it, they saw why. Frodo had wrapped himself around the twin's leg, shivering and staring blackly as though he'd been traumatized. Elrohir stopped. "Welcome home, Arwen." Then he went out, leaving them in a confused mess while Gandalf sniggered.

Arwen untangled herself and stood up, rounding on Gandalf. "Who was that? That was not my brother."

"That was your brother after a few weeks of hell," Gandalf corrected.

Arwen turned around to find everyone else glaring at her. "What, exactly, have you gotten us into?" Éomer asked.

"Me?" she replied, pointing at herself innocently. "This isn't my fault. I had no idea what's been going on here. I've only been watching Aragorn." They all looked at Gandalf. "What IS going on?"

But he refused to answer, and instead ran out of the room, skipping and giggling like a little girl.

"I want my mommy!" Pippin piped up.

"Well, I am going to find Aragorn," Arwen announced, leaving the room. Not wanting to miss anything good, they followed her.

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You really had to almost feel bad for Aragorn. He had no way of knowing what was about to happen as he walked down the hall, hand-in-hand with Legolas. And he'd been a bit on the clueless side to begin with.

So there they were, walking down the fuzzy carpeted hall, Legolas chatting away, when Aragorn froze. Legolas wasn't really paying attention (he really just liked the sound of his own voice) and so kept walking, even when Aragorn was holding him back, he kept tugging, much like a person walking their dog. Finally he turned and looked back at the man. "Aragorn, come on."

But Aragorn was staring blankly ahead, his mouth moving as though trying to find words.

Legolas followed his gaze, and his eyes met Arwen's. "You," she hissed glaring at him.

Legolas, for his part, looked completely unfazed. "Oh, hello Undomiel," he said coolly, examining his nails. "It's been a long time."

Arwen's eyes turned red. And not just red-eye red. We're talking flaming-pits-of-hell red. "How dare you!" she screamed, "You steal my husband and you don't even have the decency to look guilty or apologetic!" Then, with a war like scream, she launched herself at him.

Everyone moved closer, watching in interest. "Dude, it's a cat fight," Boromir said.

Aragorn leaned over toward him. "Do you think it's a little wrong that I'm actually enjoying this? It's kind of arousing."

Boromir backed away a little.

The door opposite them opened. Elrohir limped out, Frodo still attached to his leg, and Elladan right behind him.

"Oh, does everything have to happen right outside OUR door?" Elrohir yelled.

"Mr. Frodo! Mr. Frodo!" Sam was bouncing up the hall.

Frodo screamed, scrambling up Elrohir's back and perching on top of his head. Elladan grabbed Sam by the back of his shirt and held him back from Frodo.

Glorfindel walked down the hall, looking surprisingly upset. And also unsurprisingly gorgeous. He was only wearing a pair of loose silk pants, and that was enough to make anyone ignore everything else. He looked up at them mournfully. "I don't enjoy this, not really. You do know that, right?"

"I want my mommy," Pippin piped up.