Wow, guys. 30 chapters. That is a LOT. Thank you for being here every step of the way. Also thanks to the interwebz for posting the transcripts of these movies so I can just copy-paste because like hell am I going to dig to the Balrog depths of my memory for all of this dialogue.

Disclaimer: Tolkien owns Tolkien, you own you!

The cool wind whips over your face and through your hair as you fly over the endless plains. You'd never been able to run this long - no normal person could run this long - but your Elvish stamina has opened a new world.

The travel schedule is a bit less strict to accommodate Boromir, who is still wounded, but your fragment of the fellowship still spends most of the sun-lit day at a quick pace to catch up with the orcs. At least, such was the current agenda. You know that after a pit stop in Fangorn to pick up Gandalf, the destination will change to Edoras.

The sun sinks below the flat horizon. Aragorn chooses a cluster of large boulders in which to make camp. A small fire is lit to keep warm and raise morale, and finally you get to relax.

After dinner, Boromir, whose mood has greatly improved thanks to understanding friends and the promise of redemption, says to you, "Finish your story from last night, Aniel."

You wrinkle your nose. "I was hoping you'd forget about that."

Surprisingly, it is Aragorn who says slyly, "None of us have forgotten."

The story in question was an accidental telling thanks to an exchange from yesterday morning. Aragorn had offered to let you lead the way, having assumed you knew the way. You'd laughed and said, "We'd end up in the ocean. I've got no sense of direction. I got lost in Erebor once." Gimli especially wasn't about to let that go, and the others were very interested in the details.

"Fine," you sigh. "Where'd I leave off?"

"Day two," Boromir says a bit excitedly.

"Right. So it's the second day of being a disturbing type of lost. By this point I knew I'd better ration what was in the picnic basket, because I was in deep. It honestly looked like Moria, that's how far down I'd gone. Sure, you'd think that I'd remember the way to the forges, but in my defense, Thorin had led the way and we were being chased by a dragon. At this point I was just walking up any flight of stairs I found, because up had to be better than down. I figured if I kept going up, I'd eventually get back to civilization. Two more days pass."

Your audience laughs heartily.

"Yeah, I know. Two days later and I just turn a corner and bam, Dwarves and torches and life everywhere. Wasn't a moment too soon, either - I was down to two pickles and half a loaf of bread. I asked a Dwarf for directions outside, because at this point I cared less about finding Thorin than I did about seeing sunlight. Bless them, they literally carried me to the throne. Apparently Thorin had search parties out looking for me. And that's the story of how I got lost in my own home and was forced to take an escort any time I went more than five floors in either direction for a good seven months."

Gimli says grandly, "That is a beautiful story. I believe I remember that - rumor was that the queen had gone missing. I never did hear of what really happened, though, until now."

"Yes. What really happened is that I have no sense of direction and Erebor is bigger than the mind can even begin to conceive."

Your story is enough of a bedtime tale for them. You watch the fire burn low in the night and reflect that for as bad as things will get, it's a very nice night to be out camping with friends.

Aragorn finds Pippin's leaf clasp early the next morning, and that afternoon you cross into Rohan. The plains there are similar to those surrounding Rivendell: dotted with boulders but mostly flat, and therefore easy to see over. Therefore you're able to give Aragorn a pleasant forewarning: "There are riders coming our way."

He calls across the plains, "Riders of Rohan, what news from the Mark?"

The company wheels around and surrounds your small group. The spears angle threateningly inward, but you're not bothered; you're alone in that aspect.

Eomer asks sharply, "What business do two Elves, two Men, and a Dwarf have in the Mark? Speak quickly!"

Gimli responds in typical Dwarf fashion, "Give me your name, Horsemaster, and I shall give you mine." You roll your eyes.

Eomer squints at Gimli and dismounts. "I would cut off your head, Dwarf, if it stood but a bit higher from the ground."

"You would die before your stroke fell!"

You wonder for a moment how many fights would be avoided if only there were a bit less testosterone in the group.

Aragorn quickly defuses the situation. "I am Aragorn, son of Arathorn. This is Gimli, son of Gloin, Legolas of the Woodland Realm, Boromir of Gondor, and Lady Aniel of Erebor. We are friends of Rohan and of Theoden, your king."

Eomer deflates a bit, clearly over the brief bout of temper. "King Theoden no longer recognizes friend from foe. Not even his own kin." He takes of his helm and nods slightly at Boromir. "It is a pleasure to greet a son of Gondor in this time."

"And an ill time it must be! What ails King Theoden?"

"Saruman has poisoned the mind of the king and claimed lordship over these lands. My company are those loyal to Rohan, and for that, we are banished." He looks to Aragorn. "The White Wizard is cunning. He walks here and there, they say, as an old man, hooded and cloaked. And everywhere his spies slip past our nets."

"We are not spies," Aragorn says firmly. "We track a party of Uruk-hai westward across the plain. They've taken two of our friends captive."

"The Uruks are destroyed. We slaughtered them during the night."

Gimli is aghast. "But there were two hobbits. Did you see two hobbits with them?"

"They would be small, only children to your eyes."

Eomer shakes his head. "We left none alive. We piled the carcasses and burned them."

"Dead?"

"I am sorry," he confirms. As an afterthought, he rounds up the free horses - four of them, conveniently enough. "May these horses bear you to better fortune than their late masters. Farewell."

You smile and pet one's nose. It will be so nice not to run anymore.

Eomer mounts his horse and adds, "Look for your friends, but do not trust to hope. It has foresaken these lands."

The company gallops off to the north, leaving stunned silence in their wake.

"What wretched news," Boromir murmurs, his head downcast. "Then this entire quest has been for naught."

"No, don't worry," you say quickly, "Merry and Pippin aren't dead. They're off with a new friend and are quite safe. We'll see them again later."

"Then where do we go from here?" Aragorn asks, stunned by this information.

"If you'll trust me this once to lead the way - I'm sure I can't get lost between here and Fangorn."

"Fangorn!" Gimli exclaims. "What madness drives us there?"

"Not maddness, Gimli, an old friend. Come on!"

You run with new energy now that you know where you're going. The air becomes close and stale upon breaking into Fangorn Forest. You look up at the towering trees with awe. They're different than the ones in Mirkwood, more twisted and gnarled.

Legolas notices it, too. "This forest is old, very old. Full of memory - and anger."

Unearthly groans move through the trees. Gimli grasps his axe close.

"The trees are talking to each other!"

"They're telling you to put away your axe, Gimli," you tease. Gimli quickly lowers it. "Now, I think he's over - "

"Aragorn, nad nâ ennas!"

"Man cenich?"

"Or you could ignore me," you mutter. "Guys, it's just - "

"The White Wizard approaches!"

"Oh my god." You roll your eyes again and cross your arms. Only Boromir seems to notice your casual reaction to the situation; he lingers near you, unsure of whether to join in the attack. You look up at him and say primly, "You know, I'm going to let them. Serves them right."

"It is...not Saruman, is it?"

You shake your head.

A booming voice comes from the blinding white light that just disarmed the three great fighters. "You would do well to listen to the lady," he says, and you detect a note of his old humor disguised behind his commanding front.

"Show yourself!" Aragorn shouts.

"Why don't you try attacking again?" you suggest with all of the attitude.

Aragorn looks around at you, caught by your "inappropriately" casual tone.

Gandalf says before revealing himself, "Do not be too hard on their hastiness. These are dangerous times."

Aragorn is taken aback. "It cannot be! You fell!"

"Through fire and water. From the lowest dungeon to the highest peak, I fought with the Balrog of Morgoth, until at last I threw down my enemy and smote his ruin upon the mountainside. Darkness took me, and I strayed out of thought and time. Stars wheeled overhead and every day was as long as a life-age of the earth. But it was not the end. I felt life in me again. I've been sent back until my task is done."

Aragorn turns and looks at you. "You knew!" he exclaims.

"I knew."

"And you did not think to mention it?"

"I'm sorry, Aragorn. Don't be mad. I had a bit more on my mind with Parth Galen, and I knew we'd get here eventually. But I did try to mention it just now..."

"It was my choice, Aragorn," Gandalf says. "Aniel informed me long ago of the possible paths, and I selected the one that would bring us here. I am now Gandalf the White, and I come to you now at the turn of the tide."