The Fellowship huffed and puffed as they tore through the forest towards their boatish salvation. Legolas glanced over at Merry and Pippin.

"I've packed lembas bread – the elves bake it. One small bite is enough to fill the stomach of a grown man."

Merry and Pippin nodded intelligently as they ran, and then Merry hissed to Pippin, "How many did you eat?"

"Four," was the reply.

"Ah. Here they are," Aragorn panted.

"These are elven row boats. They are fashioned to move incredibly swiftly through the water," Legolas announced.

Merry and Pippin nodded intelligently, and then Merry hissed to Pippin, "How many did you eat?"

"Four," was the reply.

Aragorn flung out an arm to stop his companions from running into the river. "I must check for pylons, hold on…." He marched into the water and surveyed each boat thoroughly.

"Aragorn, we must go," Legolas urged.

Already they could hear the sounds of angry elves approaching.

"Hang on a minute," Aragorn snapped.

The four hobbits crouched close together, staring wide-eyed into the woods. A new, strange, rustling sound was getting louder. Legolas drew his bow.

"Ranger!" Boromir complained.

"One minute!"

Three of four hobbits yelped, Boromir shouted, and Legolas lowered his bow as the Lady Galadriel emerged from the bushes.

"Lady Galadriel?" Legolas puzzled as Boromir relaxed.

"I mean you no harm," she said. Aragorn turned, and he and the rest of the Fellowship (minus Gimli) gaped dumbly. Pippin yelped, slightly behind schedule. "I come bearing gifts for the bearers of the ring."

"Fantastic," Aragorn said dully, glaring past Galadriel at the ever loudening mob sounds coming from that direction, as the others still stared at the elf Lady.

"To Frodo, the Ring Bearer, I give you this light bulb. You might need it, if it gets dark." And it will get dark, little Hobbit. Ohhhhhhh yes, it will get dark. Frodo took the bulb from her, mouth ajar.

"To you other Hobbits, I give these daggers. You can use them to stab things, as well as mirrors, because their surfaces are rather reflective. Also, you can use them to pin things to wooden walls, in case you need to remember an important date or something. Or you can use them as utensils if you do not have any knives." Not that much pipe-weed out here, is there? Not too much to eat either. That's all you think about, isn't it? And why not? What else are you good for but eating and smoking?

Merry took both because Pippin was busy pulling a thick splinter from between his front teeth.

"For you, fourth Hobbit, I bring this rope. You can tie many untied objects with it. And you can make very nice bows and all sorts of things. You can drag it for a cat." Pretty much this means I think you're useless. I've been trying to get rid of that old piece of rope for hundreds of years.

"Excuse me, Lady Galadriel, but could we, maybe, hurry it up?" Aragorn asked, eyes darting uneasily into the trees, where the sounds of angry elves were still growing louder.

"Slow down, Dunedein," she said, "they still have to get passed the pylons. Legolas," she turned, "to you I give this new bow, because yours is broken, as it would be, bring from Mirkwood. Lothlorien bows are very much so superior to Mirkwood bows."

"It isn't broken!" He admired it with pride. "My great-great-great-grandfather made this when he was a lad, and it's withstood the test of time -"

CRACK!

Legolas gaped. Mirkwood peasant, so high and mighty. Galadriel said, "Whoops. Anyway, like I was saying, it's broken. Here. It's better." She shoved a large pink bow at him, embellished with little pom-poms and ribbons.

As Legolas stared, speechless, from his broken bow to his hideous new one, Galadriel turned to Boromir. Ah, yes, the young Gondorian princeling, or so you might wish. Why even bother, eh? Gondor's halfway to hell as it is, and so, oh manipulated one, are you. "To you, Boromir, I give this spinning top. Use it when you get bored."

"Thanks," Boromir lied.

"And finally, to you, Aragorn, I know that there is no greater gift than the love Arwen has for you, but you might need this. Think about it." She handed him a bottle of acid green shampoo. Although the unwashed look is rather sexy, if you like that sort of thing, I guess.

The fellowship stood in a line with their backs to their escape vehicles, flabbergasted to a man, staring at the Lady of Light. That was when Gimli launched into their midst from the forest.

"Get in the boooooooooooooooooooooooats!" he roared, saliva fountaining from his mouth in his terror.

"Where did you come from?" Galadriel asked. "Well, I did not plan anything for you, so, here." She yanked out three of her long, golden hairs and thrust them at him.

Gimli stared at them. "Uh, thanks?" he said.

"Come on!" yelled Aragorn, and he began heaving the four hobbits into the boats. Legolas and Boromir each leapt into a boat. Aragorn reached for Gimli.

"Nobody tosses a dwarf!" Gimli said proudly. Head held high, he marched to one of them, stretched his leg as far as it would go, and fell face first into the river.

Thankfully, Legolas had the good sense to pull him up by his beard, and so the fellowship paddled away. They had finally set sail on their way to the land of Gondor.

Boromir, who was happy to be in his homeland again, played a lovely Gondor tune on his Horn of Gondor. The four hobbits all lied and told him it was the best song they'd ever heard, and then giggled together later at how horribly similar it was to the Rohan national anthem.

Gimli ranted and raved about Legolas's man-handling of his beard, complaining that some of the beautiful rust-coloured hairs had been pulled clean out of his chin, while still others were irreversibly damaged. Also, he complained, Legolas had made him lose the three hairs from Galadriel's head, and he had really wanted to keep those as a souvenir of his terrible journey to the center of elfdom. He wanted to prove to his dwarf friends that he had survived the dreaded elf-witch. Legolas rolled his eyes constantly.

Aragorn decided that it was time to stop for the night, and the fellowship dragged the little row boats to the bank and set about cooking. The hobbits were fussing over their meal, but Legolas had withdrawn. He was staring out at the river.

Boromir leaned against a huge rock and sharpened his horn. And his shield. And his helmet. And his belt. He stared moodily over at Aragorn as he did so. Aragorn was pointedly ignoring him, which meant that he had to make conversation with Gimli. When Gimli started talking about his ingrown toenails, Aragorn grunted his irritation and strode over to Boromir.

"What?" he snapped.

"What d'you mean, 'what'?" Boromir muttered sulkily.

"Why are you glaring at me?" Aragorn asked.

"It's what she said," Boromir muttered.

"Who?" Aragorn asked.

"Oh, c'mon, there are only like three women in Middle Earth, is it really that hard for you to narrow it down?"

"What did she say?" Aragorn sighed.

"She told me that Gondor sucks."

"Well. It does."

"Ugh. You're the frigging King, and you don't even love the city. Don't you get why I'd be upset about all of this? Why do people hate Gondor so much?"

Aragorn frowned. "Because… it sucks."

Boromir glared at him.

"Look, kid. You've seen Lothlorien. You've seen Rivendell. Those are two of the only places in Middle Earth with… less influence from Mordor. That's the difference between other cities and Gondor. Just a little less Mordor. Does that make you feel better?"

Boromir looked far from cheered up. "Is that… the difference between others and me, then? I have too much Mordor in me?"

"What are you talking about?" Aragorn asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Nothing." Boromir withdrew.

Aragorn frowned, and caught sight of a moody Legolas, still looking over the river. He looked over at Gimli by the fire. Gimli was using his axe to give himself a pedicure. Aragorn made his way over to Legolas.

"That new bow she gave you will probably still work as well as your old one," Aragorn said, not at all convinced, trying to console Legolas.

"It's not that!" Legolas snapped, although he glanced distastefully at his bow all the same. "I hear something. Uruks. We should move on."

"They won't cross the river," Aragorn said dismissively, and he turned away.

"They're on OUR side of the river!" Legolas responded, but Aragorn was now wolfing down lembas bread.

MEANWHILST…

"Muah ha ha ha ha!" cackled Sauron. Or, rather, the Mouth of Sauron. The Right Hand of Sauron was clapping with the Left Hand of Sauron, and both Feet of Sauron were dancing jovially. Sauron's Cyclops Eye gazed over the party his body parts were throwing.

Gandalf, who was a prisoner of the many body parts of Sauron, was struggling against his chains. "You will never defeat the Fellowship!" he shouted.

"Since when did "Fellowship" become capitalized again?" asked the Mouth. "About halfway through this chapter it was lowercased."

Gandalf paused for a moment. "Who cares?" he said finally, "You will never defeat them, regardless of the capitalization or lack thereof!"

"I care!" the Mouth roared. The Nose sniffed pompously at Gandalf's obvious lack of knowledge. "I am a Mouth! Things sound different depending on their capitalization!"

"You're not the Ears, you freak," Gandalf smart-mouthed.

"I -" The Mouth was temporarily silenced. "Shut up."

THE END…

…of this chapter.