Ack. Sorry about last week's lack of update, guys. My internet went klabooey and I only just managed to fix it. But thankfully my muse is being kind tonight, on account of my being ill (stupid winter).

Anywhoo. Movie!Arwen is surprisingly easy to make fun of, despite the fact that I love her… And poor Elrond. The guy never does catch a break.

XXX

Frodo was in bad shape. Very bad shape. His skin was pasty, his eyes bulging, and the stupid buggers had left him lying on the freezing ground. He didn't even have a pillow behind his head. But then the world became all glowy and beautiful, and he turned to see a fair maiden ride up on a white horse, and then quickly dismount. She wore a pretty dress, and her dark hair trailed down to her fanny. Frodo's eyes bulged until they threatened to fall out of his head.

"Frodo?" she said, and her voice was so deep and manly he had to stifle a laugh, despite his dying state. "Im Arwen. Telin le thaed. Lasto beth nin. Tolo dan na galad. I am Arwen. I have come to help you. Hear my voice. Come back to the light."

The hobbit just grunted.

"Who is she?" asked Merry, as the light about her faded.

"Frodo!" she cried, kneeling before the hobbit. She was now dressed in dark colours and a billowy cloak thing. Her hair was badly ruffled, and she was out of breath. She coughed, and pulled her cloak back over her shoulders. Sam rubbed his eyes, and blinked them a few times. He could've sworn she was wearing a dress a minute ago.

 "She's an elf," he said, in awe.

"He's fading!" said Arwen, taking a twig out of her hair. She then pulled open Frodo's shirt to reveal the nasty knife wound. Strider had suddenly appeared from out of the trees, hair badly ruffled, out of breath, and knelt down next to her. He put a bit of athelas to his mouth, and then smothered it onto the inflamed skin. He also picked a twig out of his hair, and zipped up his pants with an awkward cough. "He's not going to last."

Frodo let out a shriek somewhere between a pig and a mongoose.

"We must get him to my father," said Arwen, as Strider picked up Frodo and took him over to Arwen's horse. "I've been looking for you for two days."

Strider frowned.

"That doesn't make any sense. I thought you were a pampered elven princess? Why would your father even let you out of his sight, let alone go gallivanting after Nazgûl?"

Arwen folded her arms.

"Look, just buy into my bloody character will you? I'm gonna be shoved down your throat for the next three movies anyways."

Strider smirked.

"In more ways than one."

She smacked him.

"Where are you taking him?" asked Merry, somewhere in the background of the shot, who received no answer for his troubles. He rolled his eyes. Lousy human/elf relationships. Oh boo hoo. Immortal life forsaken. Blah. Blah. Blah. Everything had to be about them.

"There are five wraiths behind you," continued Arwen.

Strider jumped, and swiftly turned around, sword at the ready.

Arwen giggled.

"Where the other four are, I do not know."

Strider sat Frodo atop the horse, and then turned to her.

"Dartho guin perian. Rych le ad tolthathon. Stay with the hobbits. I will send horses again for you."

"Hell no. I'm gonna ride this girl power phenomenon into cinematic posterity whilst it lasts."

Strider sighed.

"Bloody feminism. Fine then. Apparently you are the faster rider anyways."

She nodded.

"I do not fear them."

Strider took her hand, and laid it on the reins.

"Beyest lin," he whispered, before starting to help her atop the horse.

She scowled.

"I can do it myself, oppressive manchild!"

And she climbed up herself, and promptly slipped down the horse's backside, until she was spread eagled with her hands clutching at its tail.

Strider raised an eyebrow.

"Girl power?"

And she dropped to the ground and marched up to him, wagging a finger in his face.

"Help me on top of the damned horse or you won't be getting any tonight."

He had scooped her up and plopped her on the horse's back before you could say 'mellon nin'!

She composed herself, and then gave him a smile.

"Arwen," he said. "Ride hard. Don't look back!"

They exchanged a glance, and Arwen raised an eyebrow.

"Dude, that sounded so dirty."

He snickered. "I realised just after I said it."

She turned to the horse and whispered: "Noro lim, Asfaloth, noro lim!"

And then she was off, and Strider breathed a sigh of relief. Did she have to pressure him about forsaking her immortality EVERY BLOODY TIME they met? He hated having relationship talks. They bored him. Unless there was the promise of sex afterwards. But even then…

"What are you doing?" shrieked Sam. "Those wraiths are still out there!"

Strider rounded on him. "AND YOU DON'T THINK THOSE SAME WRAITHS AREN'T GONNA HEAR YOUR WHINING YOU FAT GIT?" He sobered, cleared his throat, and then went back to staring after Arwen's fine booty.

In the bushes nearby, nobody noticed the unconscious form of Glorfindel.

XXX

And so Arwen rode. She rode hard. Hard and fast. Her breathing became heavy. Her heart pounded until it threatened to rip out of her chest and leg it across the plain. And Frodo continued to grunt with excessively louder grunting sounds. And still they rode. Hard. And all the while they were riding a horse. Damn.

Oh yeah, and some Nazgûl chased them too. In and out of the trees they weaved, with those black riders shrieking all the while. One reached out to grab Frodo, and Arwen cried: "Noro lim Asfaloth!"

The horse picked up speed, and away they sped again, faster than Samwise Gamgee when he's spotted a buffet.

Soon they had reached the Ford of Bruinen, and Arwen rode to the other side and turned. The riders paused on the opposite bank. They didn't like water, since none of them could swim. And they refused to wear arm bands. Fluorescent orange and black tended to clash.

"Give up the half-fling she-elf!" they hissed.

Arwen did not answer, but drew her sword with a mighty ching!

"If you want him, come and claim him!"

And so they started across the water, and Frodo glared at her.

"Now you've done it!" he said.

Arwen ignored him, and began to chant a spell upon the river: "Nin o Chithaeglir, lasto beth daer, Rimmo nin Bruinen dan in Ulair! Nin o Chithaeglir, lasto beth daer, Rimmo nin Bruinen dan in Ulair!"

And with a mighty crash around the bend there came a massive crest of water, and Frodo's eyes bulged with horror. Upon the waves appeared the forms of galloping horses, and with a lot of shrieking and spluttering the Nazgûl and their horses were washed away.

Frodo got off the horse, shaking his head.

"Okay. That is it. I could accept the horse-stealing and the exciting chase scene, but that spell just takes the cake!"

Arwen frowned.

"What? I was just calling on my father to unleash the flood. It's not like I created or summoned it or anything."

Frodo raised an eyebrow.

"Well, were you ever going to tell the audience that?"

She flicked back her hair.

"I think the scene is pretty self explanatory."

Frodo gasped.

"What is it?" she cried.

"Oh, bugger. I'm having a plot rape-induced heart attack."

She began to panic.

"Damn it, I can't remember my first aid training!"

Frodo fell to one knee.

"Well then, speed me to Rivendell, you stupid wench!"

"No," she said. "That's okay. I'll just hug you tightly and hope that somehow everything will work out."

Frodo's face fell.

"I am screwed."

And she scooped him up in her arms and held him close, so that he was crushed up against her cleavage. If Aragorn had been around to see it, she would've had some explaining to do.

And once again, everything went white, and she prayed.

"What grace is given me, let it pass to him, let him be spared, save him…"

XXX

Frodo felt a very strange sensation. He was as light as a feather, and his hair blew in some unseen breeze. Then he realised he was flying.

Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeee! thought his unconscious mind. But then he heard a voice: Lasto beth nin. Tolo dan nan galad."

Slowly he opened his eyes, and at first everything was shockingly bright. Twilight Zone bright.

"Where am I?" he said, half to himself.

"You are in the house of Elrond. And it is 10 o'clock in the morning, on October the 24th if you want to know."

He turned and gasped.

"Gandalf?"

 The wizard sat smoking on his pipe, and smiled. "Yes... I'm here. And you're lucky to be here too. A few more hours and you would have been beyond our aid. But you have some strength in you, my dear hobbit!"

"What happened Gandalf? Why didn't you meet us?"

"Oh, I'm sorry Frodo," he said. "I lost my mobile, and then I was delayed."

The rain had finally stopped. And Saruman was still drunk he concluded, as he was flipped about and hung precariously over the edge of Orthanc.

"Friendship with Saruman is not lightly thrown aside," said the white wizard, scowling. "One ill turn deserves another. It is over! Embrace the power of the Ring…or embrace your own destruction!"

He flipped Gandalf back onto solid ground. The wizard sat up, and worked the kinks out of his back.

"What time is it?" he asked, smacking his lips. "High time for breakfast I'll reckon."

Saruman had a hissy fit.

"Hello? Have you even read this book? I am evil. I have betrayed you. I am torturing you to try and bring you over to the Dark Side. AND ALL YOU CAN THINK ABOUT IS YOUR SMEGGING BREAKFAST!"

Gandalf frowned, and looked at his watch.

"I'm missing GMTV."

And he jumped off the tower, much to Saruman's confusion, and landed on the back of Gwahir, a giant eagle.

"You took a bit of a risk, didn't you?" said the eagle, laughing.

Gandalf made a WTF? face.

"I didn't even realise you were there. I was attempting suicide, ya know, but I guess the Valar have further uses for me." The eagle passed him up a packet of nachos, and he settled onto its back as they flew towards Rivendell.

"So you have chosen death," mused Saruman. "Hey, whatever. I'm not judging."

"Gandalf?" asked Frodo, realizing the wizard had spaced out. "Helllloooo?" He waved a hand in his face. "What is it?"

Gandalf shook his head.

"Nothing Frodo."

"Aww, come on, you can tell me."

"Seriously Frodo, just let it slip. Give me at least this one angsty moment in the film. I'm gonna die in a couple of scenes time."

"Huh?"

Just then Sam rushed into the room, and took hold of Frodo's hand.

"Frodo!"

"Sam!"

"Gandalf!"

They both turned and stared at the wizard.

"Sorry." And he went back to smoking his pipe.

"Bless you, you're awake!" cried the fat hobbit, grinning.

Frodo just laughed.

"Sam has hardly left your side," said Gandalf.

Sam nodded: "We were that worried about you, weren't we Mr. Gandalf?"

"By the skills of Lord Elrond, you're beginning to mend."

And they all suddenly noticed Elrond, chief elf of Rivendell, who had been hiding behind a curtain. He was tall and fair, and wearing a quite ridiculous high-collar number.

"Welcome to Rivendell, Frodo Baggins."

"Hi." And Frodo turned back to Sam. "So anyways, I hope you weren't watching me while I was sleeping..."

Elrond cleared his throat. Frodo looked up.

The elf spread out his arms, and announced: "Welcome to Rivendell!"

Frodo raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah, I heard you the first time."

Elrond scowled.

"Do you not recognize me?"

"Huh?"

"Oh come on. Everyone's seen me in that film. It gets mentioned constantly in fanfics. It was groundbreaking stuff. Y'know… the one that completely screwed with your mind? And where I had that really particular way of speaking…"

Frodo shrugged.

Elrond had a hissy fit.

"I'm Mitzi from Priscilla, Queen of the Desert, dammit!"

Gandalf, Frodo and Sam all looked at each other, clueless.

"Arghhh! It was a classic! Why does no one ever think of that movie in relation to me?"

Frodo squinted his eyes.

"Wait a minute, you do look familiar…"

Elrond began to smile.

"Yes?"

"But I remember you wearing a suit…"

"Nonsense," said Elrond, quickly. "You must be mixing me up with someone else."

"Oh yeah," said Sam, catching on, "weren't you in that movie about computers and stuff?"

"I really feel this is neither the time nor the place-"

"Agent Smith!" said Frodo, laughing. "You were that evil guy from The Matrix weren't you?"

Elrond blushed.

"I have no idea what you are talking about. Must be the anesthetic making you hallucinate."

Gandalf had caught on by now.

"Ooh, ooh, say it! Say the line!"

Elrond looked about, helplessly.

"Oh god!" he cried. "I can't escape it!"

And then he went running out of the room, pulling at his hair in exasperation. A moment later he strode back in, slipping on a pair of black shades.

"Welcome to Rivendell, Mr. Anderson."

Gandalf bounced about in his seat, clapping.

Frodo smiled, taking the steaming bowl of soup that was offered to him. Then his face fell.

"I need a spoon."

"Ah, but Mr. Anderson," said Agent Smith/Elrond, turning around and walking out of the room. "There is no spoon."