Hehe. I'm glad everyone enjoyed Elrond/Agent Smith. I only really threw him in at the last minute ^^

I really didn't feel funny this weekend, so that is why this chapter is a tiny bit late. I'll try and be back on schedule next time, I promise.

XXX

Frodo got dressed, and ventured out into Rivendell proper with Sam. Merry and Pippin ran out to see him, overjoyed, and a lot of hobbit hugging and groping ensued. Frodo pushed them away, and spotted his Uncle Bilbo sitting on a seat not far away.

"Bilbo!" he cried.

"Hello, Frodo my lad!"

And they hugged too. And more groping ensued. Frodo soon ended the hug, and was more than happy to read Bilbo's book.

"There and Back Again: A Hobbit's Tale by Bilbo Baggins," he read.

Bilbo snatched up the book and jumped in front of the camera, beaming.

"Only £9.99 from all good bookstores!"

Frodo glared at him.

"What? It's shameless product placement. Get with the times, Frodo."

He scowled.

Bilbo shrugged and took a seat beside the young hobbit, albeit shakily.

"I meant to go back," he said. "Wander the paths of Mirkwood... visit Laketown... see the Lonely Mountain again… But age it seems has finally caught up with me."

"I'll say," said Frodo. "You look as ravaged as a buffet after Samwise Gamgee has spotted it."

Frodo was flicking through the book again, and stopped on a map of the Shire.

 "I miss the Shire. I spent all my childhood, pretending I was off somewhere else… off with you on one of your adventures!" He frowned. "My own adventure turned out to be quite different… I'm not like you Bilbo. Thank god."

Bilbo smiled. "My dear boy."

And he put out his arms for another hug. Frodo suddenly needed to go to the bathroom.

XXX

In another corner of Rivendell, Sam was packing up his bag, and muttering to himself: "Now what have I forgotten?"

Frodo walked over. "Packed already?"

Sam looked up from packing a plastic banjo. "No harm in being prepared," he said.

Frodo was amused, and watched as Sam packed a rubber ducky, a bottle of sun block, a pair of Speedos, some fluffy handcuffs and a magazine entitled Hobbit Monthly. "I thought you wanted to see the elves, Sam."

"I do!"

"More than anything."

 "I did! It's just... we did what Gandalf wanted didn't we? We got the Ring this far to Rivendell and then I thought - seein' as how you're on the mend - we'd be off soon. Off home."

"Come on Sam," said Frodo, patting his back. "We've got two more movies to fill. You know that!"

"I suppose you're right."

He fiddled distractedly with his prized bowling ball before packing that as well.

"Besides," said Frodo, "it's not like anything atrociously awful is gonna happen to either of us in the near future..."

Sam raised an eyebrow.

"Do the words 'giant spider' mean anything to you?"

XXX

From Elrond's study, Gandalf and Elrond were eavesdropping on the hobbits.

"His strength returns," said Elrond.

"That wound will never fully heal. Not with your lousy stitching. He will carry it the rest of his life."

Elrond frowned. He had tried to stitch Frodo's wound so that it read 'Elrond wuz ere 20/10/3018' but had failed miserably.

"And yet to have come so far," said the elf, "still bearing the Ring, the hobbit has shown extraordinary resilience to its evil."

"It is a burden he should never have had to bear," argued the wizard. "We can ask no more of Frodo."

 "Gandalf," said the elf sternly. "The enemy is moving. Sauron's forces are amassing in the east. His eye is fixed on Rivendell. And Saruman you tell me has betrayed us. Our list of allies grows thin."

The wizard shook his head.

"His treachery runs deeper than you know. By foul craft Saruman has crossed orcs with goblin-men. Very icky business. He's breeding an army in the caverns of Isengard, and it's not a pretty sight to see I'll tell ya. An army that can move in sunlight and cover great distance at speed. Saruman is coming for the Ring."

There was a pause. Then they both burst into girlish laughter.

"Oh, the subtext!"

Gandalf wiped a tear from his eye.

But then Elrond's words became urgent: "This evil cannot be concealed by the power of the Elves. We do not have the strength to fight both Mordor and Isengard!"

Gandalf walked away a few paces, and muttered something that sounded suspiciously like "Coward."

"Gandalf," said Elrond, slipping back into his sinister Agent voice. "The Ring cannot stay here."

The wizard did not answer at once, but looked out of the window and saw a man, a couple of elves and some dwarves arrive.

"This peril belongs to all Middle Earth," said Elrond.

"Except for Tom Bombadil."

"Except for Tom Bombadil. They must decide now how to end it. The time of the Elves is over. My people are leaving these shores. Who will you look to when we've gone? The dwarves? They hide in their mountains seeking riches; they care nothing for the troubles of others."

Gandalf nodded. "It is in men that we must place our hope."

"Men?" The concept was so absurd that Elrond began to laugh, and could not stop for another ten minutes. Gandalf went to go get him a glass of water, but it was useless. The elf lord just coughed and spluttered and snorted it all out of his nose.

The wizard sighed, and looked into the camera.

"Jackson, just run the flashback, okay?"

Sauron had been defeated. And Elrond was all business, as he stomped over to Isildur and said to him: "Isildur, hurry. Follow me."

Elrond, who had managed to calm down somewhat, began his angsty monologue: "I led Isildur into the heart of Mount Doom, where the Ring was forged, the one place it could be destroyed.

And so Elrond led Isildur to the heart of Mount Doom, where the Ring was forged, the one place it could be destroyed. The elf walked towards the brink, and stared down into the fire, and then back at Isildur.

"Cast it into the fire!" he said.

Isildur opened his hand, and looked at the Ring. It began to whisper to him.

"LIEKOMG!" the elf pleaded, "don't you now tht ring is liek totally ebil! It'll ensnare yooooooo! Destrrroy it!"

"No," said Isildur, smirking. And he walked away.

"Isildur!" Elrond yelled, dropping to his knees and ripping at his cloak in agony. "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

"It should've ended that day," he said grimly, "but evil was allowed to endure."

"Umm, Elrond. Why didn't you just grab the Ring and throw it in yourself?"

"Quiet you."

Gandalf pouted.

"Isildur kept the Ring," said Elrond. "The line of kings is broken. There is no strength left in the world of men. They're scattered, divided, leaderless."

"There is one who could unite them," said the wizard. "One who could reclaim the throne of Gondor."

"He turned from that path a long time ago. Wimpy bastard. He just spends all his time joyriding through the wilds and screwing my daughter. I swear, one night I came home from an errand and heard this scream from Arwen's room, so I ran upstairs and there's Aragorn standing there with this huge friggin' bullwhip…"

Gandalf quickly left, before he was forced to rip his own ears off.

XXX

Strider was reading a book. Well, pretending to anyways. It was all about wizards and muggles and someone called Voldemort. He wondered whether he was any relation of Sauron's. They both seemed to like rings a whole lot.

He heard footsteps, and looked up. Boromir, a proud, noble man of Gondor, had entered the room. He had long brown hair that even a shampoo model would be proud of. Strider caught himself drooling just in time, and then, discreetly crossing his legs, he went back to his pretending-to-read.

Boromir paused in front of a painting. It depicted Isildur cutting the Ring from Sauron's finger. He peered intently at the signature in the corner: Van Gogh. He shrugged, and turned towards the shrine in the centre of the room. Before the statue of a woman rested the broken hilt and shards of a sword. He picked it up and stared at it in wonder.

"The shards of Narsil! The blade that cut the ring from Sauron's hand!"

He ran a finger along the blade, and accidentally cut himself.

"It's still sharp!"

"Well duh."

He turned to look at Strider, who had looked up from his book. Their eyes met, and Boromir suddenly became aware of himself.

"No more than a broken heirloom!" he muttered, and set the hilt down again. It fell and clattered to the ground and he turned a moment, then swiftly left the room, feeling Strider's eyes on his ass all the while.

The ranger got up, and walked over to the shrine. Bending down, he picked up the handle and put it back with the other shards. Then he took a step back, and put a hand upon his heart.

"Why do you fear the past?" It was Arwen. "You are Isildur's heir, not Isildur himself."

"Well duh. That was such a stupid line Legolas should have said it."

Legolas, who was hiding behind a pillar, ran out of the room and burst into tears.

She ignored him. "You are not bound to his fate."

He sighed. "The same blood flows in my veins. The same weakness."

"Your time will come," said Arwen. "You will face the same evil, and you will defeat it. A si i-Dhúath ú-orthor. Ú or le a ú or nin. The Shadow does not hold sway yet, not over you and not over me."

XXX

And now the audience was forced to learn a whole new name, since this Strider had turned out to be the heir of Isildur, with a spiffy new name and everything. Aragorn he was, son of Arathorn, and somehow he had managed to bag himself a hot elven babe. With mussed up hair like that.

Some guys had all the luck.

They stood, holding hands atop the bridge spanning the Ford of Bruinen, looking all glowy and beautiful. A number of fangirls in the bushes hissed at Arwen for stealing their man.

"Did you hear something?" he asked.

"No… maybe it was one of Sam's Neekerbreekers."

"Neekerbreekers?" he asked, confused. "What are you talking about?"

"Oops, sorry. I'm getting book verse confused with movie verse again."

He shrugged.

"It happens. So, anyways, let's plight our troth in a really obvious lets-enthuse-some-romance-into-this-film-to-please-the-backers-at-New-Line kinda way."

She frowned.

"I thought we already plighted our troth about 38 years ago?"

Aragorn slapped himself in the forehead.

"It's the 21st century. Lots of couples cohabit before they get married these days."

"But we haven't been living together. You've been going all Aldarion on me, disappearing on all of your adventures whilst I sit about and mope at home."

He shrugged.

"It's not my fault you're such a useless character."

She stomped on his foot.

"Ow. I mean, let's pledge our eternal love, kay?"

They went back to their glowy façade, and some neat subtitles appeared whenever they spoke Elvish, which was beginning to annoy Aragorn after a while.

"Jackson!" he called. "Could you cut the subtitles a second? I'm trying to have a romantic moment here!"

"But no-one will know what you're saying!"

"So? It'll add a little mystery to the scene."

Arwen growled.

"I am this close to sleeping with Legolas!" she told him. "Just ignore the bloody subtitles!"

He sighed.

"Fine, but this is the last time…"

"Renech i lu i erui govannen?" she whispered. "Do you remember when we first met?"

"Yeah," he told her. "I fell down the hill and came crashing down on you. Then Elrond found us on top of one another, covered in dirt and leaves, and he's hated me ever since." She nudged him in the ribs. "I-I mean: Nauthannem i ned ol reniannen. I thought I had strayed into a dream."

 She reached out a hand and tenderly touched his cheek.

"Gwenwin in enninath...U-arnech in naeth i si celich. Long years have passed…You did not have the cares you carry now."

"Well, thanks, you look good for your age too."

 She met his eyes.

"Renech i beth i pennen? Do you remember what I told you?"

 His hand ran down her breast, and came to rest on the Evenstar pendant around her neck. It was all pretty and shiny in the moonlight. Then his hand kept going.

She batted it away.

"Not here!"

He pouted.

"You said you'd bind yourself to me; forsaking the immortal life of your people." He sighed. "Now if that wasn't a subtly concealed line of exposition. Not."

"And to that I hold," she said, in a dramatically deep voice. "I would rather share one lifetime with you than face all the ages of this world alone." She laid the Evenstar in his hand. "I choose a mortal life."

He shrugged.

"Whatever floats your boat."

And then it was their cue to kiss, but Aragorn went and messed it up, like he always did at every important moment of his life. He slipped off the bridge and fell into the Ford with a huge splash. Arwen just stood there, soaked from head to foot. A number of fangirls sprang from the bushes and went to Aragorn's rescue, whilst Peter Jackson ran out yelling 'Cut!'

"That was awful!" he shouted at her. "Why can't you two get this one little scene right?"

She watched as Aragorn dragged himself out of the water, spitting up copious amounts of water.

"Still," she answered, "this was the best take so far..."