A/N: Short chapter, I'm afraid, but then next on will be long, I promise! If I combined them, it would be freakishly long, and this conversation between Zei and Shonji is important.

IMPORTANT: Please review. I'm feeling very uninspired, and it would feed the muse wonderfully for "Well Behaved Women". 8D

He lay in the dirt, belly scraping the mossy ground, glittering eyes fixated on the gathering of people who were beginning to clamber into the boats. His fur shone in the dull winter sunlight, thick black bristles stretched over a heavy, muscle-bound frame. Restlessly his paws stirred in the dirt, haunches tensing as his wide, pointed ears swiveled. He heard his companion approaching, and he wanted to look alert. He sat up, licking a bit of dust from his foreleg, rippling his coat as he shook, those lazy yellow eyes half closed and fringed with dark, thick lashes. Like his companion, he wore no halter or bridle, instead allowing his Charge to show off and ride him bareback. His lazy, contented gaze settled on a patch of bushes near the waters edge, and his muscles tightened fractionally. It was a game they played – don't allow the other to sneak up on you. He waited for a tense moment, and then Shonji prowled out of the bushes, deep purple fur slashed brightly with daring blocks of black stripes. A stripe of creamy white ran from his chin to his tail, skirting along his underbelly, and his tail was ringed with black. His dark liquid eyes evaluated his friend calmly, and he padded over, massive paws making little or no markings on the soft bank mud. The two of them touched noses, identical in size and weight – but while Shonji had his muscle stacked against his shoulders and back, Zei's bulk was hidden behind his long, graceful legs and tufted tail. Naturally, as a canine, Zei had a longer muzzle and a slightly less intimidating look, but those golden eyes were deceptively calm and serene, staying that way even if he was chewing on your legs. For a moment, they circled each other, tails flicking against noses, and then Shonji sat down, signaling Zei to do so as well.

You caught up with us, Shonji commented, black eyes boring into his friend's own golden ones. It took you long enough.

The wizard is still alive, Zei said bluntly, ignoring Shonji's put-down. You said you would leave this Story intact.

I said I would try, Shonji said indifferently, licking his paw and swiping it across his whiskers like all cats do. I made no promises. The Authors will fix it.

The Bookkeeper will take them to the Manuscript, Zei said. Our Charges are going to stop them. There will be a fight.

Not if I can help it, Shonji said disgustedly. Sues – they are supposed to be divine goddesses of wisdom, and yet none of them have a speck of sense. I would pay dearly to see a Sue who actually knows what do to while in a Story.

What is their plan? Kidnapping? Zei asked. It seems foolish.

It is. They are allowing their petty revenge plan to get in the way of the ultimate goal. Shonji snapped, whiskers going flat against his face. I'll keep my Charge on track – just be sure yours doesn't get out of hand.

She's an idiot, Zei growled, and a terrible Sue at that. They put no effort into her at all.

Relax, wolf, Shonji said. If all goes well, we'll get them all to Isengard and then they'll fix your Charge.

He'll stop you, Zei warned. He's a powerful Bookkeeper. One of the best I've seen.

He is, Shonji conceded, but leave him to me.

Michael dug his paddle deeply into the water, pushing against the deep curve of his paddle, sending swirling eddies into the current. Melody pulled her hood up higher, burying her nose into the thick cloak. Galadriel had given them all beautiful new cloaks – just in time for chilly weather, Melody decided, and shivered. Daphne didn't seem to be affected by the cold, and was poring over her book, scratching her nose with her quill and leaving a smear of ink. All of the Authors had been given fresh books by Celeborn, along with new quills, and Madison had nearly shut down there and then when Celeborn smiled at her. Daphne, who had promptly thrown her into a boat with Legolas, Isabella, and Gimli, decided that Madison liked elves just a little too much. But the books would come in handy – after all, their old books were filling up fast, and they weren't even halfway finished. Daphne had asked Tolkien when they would start seeing the Sues weaken a little, and he hadn't answered. He had been very moody and quiet every since coming out of Moria – evidently, the Authors weren't the only ones worried about the arrival of Gandalf. So Daphne was trying to write – with limited success - while Michael paddled, her quill scratching against the snowy expanse of paper. One good thing had come out of all this – her handwriting was getting much better. Once an untidy scrawl, now a moderately readable cursive, and Daphne was proud of herself. Her mother's military neat printing and her father's Catholic-taught cursive had always far outstripped her own rather pathetic scrawl. However, a very unexpected mumble from Melody interrupted her.

"We're not going to win," Melody informed her, blinking owlishly from behind her hood. Daphne's brows drew together.

"What?" Daphne asked.

"We're going to lose. Think about every Sue story you've ever read. The Sues always win." Melody said.

"God, you sound morbid," Daphne snapped. "Can't you be cheerful for once?"

"Boromir's going to die," Melody said, sounding rather like Dr. Phil. "How do you feel about that?"

I feel like I'm going to throw up, Daphne wanted to say. And it was true. All month she had been worrying about it, thinking of possible ways to save him. But she couldn't sacrifice the story. That's why she was here – to protect the story. She couldn't allow a little fuzzy feeling to get in the way. But instead of explaining all this to Melody, Daphne didn't answer. Because she was afraid any answer she gave would sound guilty. She didn't want to sound guilty – she didn't want to sound like she had totally misjudged him. She didn't want to open her mouth and exclaim that she thought he was a great guy, a guy who didn't deserve to die. More than that, she didn't want to cry. So instead she want back to her furious scribbling's, unaware that her silence sounded guiltier than her words.

Madison stroked the cover of her red leather book, small fingers tracing the grooves and patterns on the cover. Celeborn had given them all a book with different colored bindings – for Isabella, dark blue, for Michael, a soft green. Daphne was given a rich purple color, and Melody had her buttery yellow book tucked into her backpack. The five of them were also outfitted with new quills and inkwells, and Madison noticed each of them had a different design on them. She shrugged and hugged herself, shivering a little, taking in the scenery. The river was fast and cold, twisting silver melting into foamy white as it rushed away from moss-covered boulders. The banks were hemmed with low-hanging tree boughs, willowy fingers trailing in the water, limbs bobbing slightly from the speedy current. Above them, the sky was a hard, bright cerulean, somehow making everything seem colder, a broad, uncaring expanse that seemed glassy and somehow liable to shatter. Everything seemed too close, like the clouds were within touching distance and the silence was wrapping itself around them. Madison debated about pulling her hood up to warm her ears, but her already-frizzy hair was bound to get frizzier. She pushed her glasses farther up her nose and tucked her small fingers beneath her arms. Legolas noticed this and arched an eyebrow. "Are you going for a swim, Madison?" he asked in a mock-caring voice. He had taken to calling her Madison at her insistence, dropping the 'Lady' from her name. Maddie made a face.

"Are you kidding? It's frigid out!" she said, teeth chattering. "And the water is bound to be colder."

"On the contrary," Isabella said, speaking up for the first time since she had woken up that morning, "the water will be warmer than the air. You don't have a chill factor underwater, because you'd be moving. Sitting still actually doesn't make you warmer." she said smugly. "And I would be moving, except I fear I would tip the boat."

"If you tip this boat," Madison warned, "I'll never forgive you, I swear I won't."

"Now, now, ladies," Legolas soothed, albeit with a smile on his face. "Let's have peace between the races, shall we?" He glanced at Gimli, who had used almost those exact words when he asked for a strand of hair from Galadriel's head. The bushy-bearded dwarf scowled.

"Are you makin' fun o' me?" Gimli demanded, ignoring the stifled chuckles from Legolas and Madison. Isabella looked completely unfathomable.

"Not at all," Legolas assured him. He shared a glance with Madison, and the frizzy-haired nerd burst out,

"But where is it? The hair, I mean." She clarified. Gimli shook a fist at her.

"None of your business, liddle whelp," he growled, subsiding. Legolas kept a perfectly straight face as he pulled his paddle through the water.

"Why, Madison, everyone knows where he keeps them. Inside his armor, close to his heart." Legolas said, and Madison burst out laughing. Gimli got to his feet – as it was, he was so short it didn't make much difference, but his face was writ all over with ill-concealed humor.

"Why, insolent elf! I'd expect no better from a little Princeling." he said mockingly. Legolas paused his rowing and clasped a hand to his heart.

"Ah, Master Dwarf, you've wounded me deeply," Legolas said with a bright laugh, and resumed his duties. "You know I mean naught but fun."

"Pah! Elves don't know how to jest. Now, dwarves, we know how to have a celebration. Beer flowin' from every tap –"

"Urgh, dwarfish beer, must taste awful!" Legolas interrupted, a grin flicking the corner of his mouth. Gimli continued as though there hadn't been any interruption.

"Music weavin' through the dancers –"

"Can dwarves actually play music? I suppose they must beat on drums or bang rocks, don't you think, Madison?" Legolas asked with a widening grin. Gimli cleared his throat and tried to hide the twinkle in his eyes.

"Ahem! As I was sayin'! Beautiful women bringing dripping shanks of meat – "

"And the meat looks more appealing, I'm sure. At least the beef has no beard. Careful! Careful! Temper, Master Dwarf, you'll upset the boat!"

Madison held her sides and laughed until she cried.

None of them noticed the huge black wolf stalking them along the banks.

A/N: Anyone want to guess what the Manuscript is? :D