Soooo... sorry for another short (and late) chapter. I had tons going on this month with keeping up my blog and doing Camp Nano, not to mention lots of stuff that just happened... Okay, excuses over.

FandomFangirl100: Yes, it is! I'm going to wear my Captain America T-shirt tomorrow. What about you? Pip the Dark Lord of All: Marriage is over-rated. XD cheeringforraindrops: Many thanks, faithful reader! You are brave to have come so far through so much craziness. :P Flashdancing was an allusion to Disney's Up. Great movie, btw. girawesome43: Yes, poor Sauron. I wonder what colour his hair is? :/ That was random; sorry. Blueberrymuffins76: Yes, I'd like to see Leggy turn into a spider too! Don't worry; no elvenkings will be harmed in the making of this story. :) Sixty-four K: You should cosplay as Legolas and Lily should cosplay as Lindir. You hear that, Lily? Guest: You may count it your good deed of the day. XD Btw, you should join this site. Lots of cool people and stories to hang out with. (Say goodbye to normal life first, though.) Phillip Callaway: Yes, I love Boromir/Faramir brother love too. Too bad they weren't the movies together very much. :( Lily Lindsey-Aubrey: *ahem* I wasn't going to mention names... And yes, Lindir's nice like that. ;) Rousdower: I would have passed out too. :P

Chapter 22: The Mordor Ice Bucket Challenge

Sauron was sitting in his most comfortable (meaning least spiky) chair with a cold pack on his head while Lord Celeborn stood nearby helpfully holding a bottle of smelling salts. The iron door of the room flew back against the wall with a painful clang and Galadriel swept in dramatically.

"It's all arranged," she said loudly, speaking unnecessarily close to Sauron's ear. "I've set up an appointment for you with Erestor."

Sauron moaned faintly. "Can't you speak in a lower tone?" asked in a plaintive voice. "My head is killing me."

"Take an advil," said Galadriel, proffering a glass of water and a small pink pill. "Erestor is waiting."

"I don't need a shrink," Sauron protested.

"Erestor is not a shrink. He's a very qualified counsellor and therapist. And he's giving you a special discount."

"Oh, I suppose I must," groaned Sauron.

He was interrupted by a loud crash and an elvish squeal from somewhere below.

"What's that? It's not them, is it? Mouth! Where are you? Don't let them in!"

Sauron clutched his robe more tightly about him and the uncontrollable trembling that he had only just mastered came back with redoubled violence.

"My lord Elrond," wailed a plaintive voice. "Where are you?"

"What have you done now, Lindir?" asked Elrond, stalking into the room. "You've upset the patient. I told you no loud noises."

Lindir entered through a different door with his robe sopping wet and the hem dragging on the floor.

"My lord Elrond, someone put a bucket of water above the door and it fell on me. Who would be so cruel?"

Sauron ceased shaking upon seeing who the intruder was. He had a momentary qualm of conscience which he immediately suppressed.

"You should have used the back door," he said.

"Oh, my poor Lindir!" cried Lady Galadriel, throwing her arms around the bedraggled elf. "There, there, don't cry. Celeborn, don't just stand there; get a towel! Mean Sauron to play such a naughty trick!"

"He was not the intended victim," said Sauron, but his voice was drowned out by Galadriel's high-pitched chatter. He began to feel the ominous tightness at his throat that had presaged his earlier breakdown. He decided to go see Erestor before it was too late for his sanity.

Erestor was sitting - lounging, rather - on a red-upholstered chaise lounge with his feet up in a state of relaxed reflection. He jumped up as Sauron came in and dusted off the headrest in embarrassment.

"My lord," he said, "so good to see you. Won't you have a seat? I'm so honoured to be of service to you. I hope you're comfortable. Are you quite relaxed?"

"How can I be relaxed when you're hovering over me and breathing down my neck?" complained Sauron.

"I'm sorry, my lord," said Erestor, clearing his throat and straightening his robe. "I shall attempt to assume a more professional attitude. Is this better?"

"Just get on with it," said Sauron.

"Very good, my lord." Erestor sat down behind a desk - it was actually Sauron's desk; Sauron glared at him but decided not to press a point - and opened a large book titled Psychiatric Care for Dummies.

"What's that for?" demanded Sauron, feeling insulted. "I'm not a dummy!"

"No, no, it's merely the title, your lordship," said Erestor in a conciliatory tone. He did not feel like explaining that the book was actually to teach Psychiatric care to dummies.

"Now," he said, finding his place in the book. "Do you have any of the following symptoms?"

There was a sudden bang from somewhere down below. Sauron groaned.

"I wish people would quit banging doors around," he complained.

Someone's metal shoes clanged on the stone floor and the witch king entered the room, dripping wet.

"Er, are you feeling all right, sir?" he asked.

Sauron stared at him. "What happened to you?"

"It appears someone propped a bucket of water above the door. I did not see it and-"

"Why can't people do as they're told and use the back door? It's no good using booby traps around here because I'm already surrounded by boobies!"

"Calm yourself, your lordship," implored Erestor. "Remember your condition."

Sauron stopped hyperventilating and tried to take several deep breaths. The results were rather shaky gasps.

"That's better, your lordship," said Erestor. "Now to continue..."

Thranduil opened the hatch on his tank and stuck his head out. The huge Black Gate towered in front of him, topped by two suspicious looking cave trolls.

"What's going on down there?" one of the cave trolls shouted.

Thranduil reached for his megaphone.

"Open the gate!" he announced. "Otherwise, we will take immediate offensive action."

The cave trolls surveyed the array of tanks, half tracks, bulldozers, and other large machinery lined up in formation.

"Sorry, we can't open the gate for anyone. Sauron's orders."

"You have been warned," said Thranduil. "FIRE!"

"Unless," added the cave troll hastily, "you happen to be on our side."

"We're not," said Thranduil.

"Do you want to join our side?" asked the cave troll hopefully.

"No."

"Well, do you know someone who's on our side?"

"We know Legolas," said Feren.

"Don't be ridiculous," said Thranduil, turning angrily on his lieutenant. "Legolas isn't on their side."

"Well, you never can -"

"Oh," said one of the cave trolls, relieved. "You're all right, then. We know Legolas. He stayed in our cave awhile back."

They started pushing a giant bar and the gate ponderously swung open.

"I still think we should blow it up," said Thranduil. "Just to be on the safe side."

"But we might need the ammunition to blow up Barad-dur," said Feren.

"Oh... fine." Thranduil huffed disappointedly, then thought how much fun it would be to blow up Barad-dur and brightened.

The air filled with exhaust fumes as seventy-five Abrams tanks rolled through the Black Gate into Mordor.

Tomorrow is my 1 year anniversary of being on this site. Woohoo!

Tomorrow is also FANDOM FRIDAY! (Has it really been almost a month since I last updated this? :P)