I winced as another bucket of ice cold water got dumped over my head. "Stop it! I'm not bloody drunk!"

With my long hair, I couldn't see a damn thing, just that I stood on white paving stones, spotted here and there with horse dung. It smelled of piss and manure.

"You were clearly under the influence of something!" Nob cried. "If not alcohol, then some manner of vile sorcery, a copy of the One Ring, perhaps! Aragorn died because of you!"

"I am not the one to blame for that man's misfortune! The attack occurred prior to...uh..." What was it that happened? A romantic interlude? A form of madness brought on by fatigue?...Sorcery, as he described? Before I could formulate the rest of the sentence, more freezing water doused me.

Still had my clothing. Thank the gods for that!

"Tell me, Wizard, are you often in the habit of snogging foul demonic creatures who murder your close friends?"

I received a shower.

Through my hair, I spotted a lean, pointy eared figure refilling a bucket in a fountain. I raised a staying hand. "Please! No more! I've regained my senses. I admit I...had been...emotionally confused before, and experienced a...kind of hallucination, but my mind is clear now!"

"How many fingers am I holding up?"

"I can't see, I got hair in my face."

Another bucket came down. "Stop! Now you're just torturing me for amusement!"

"Legolas," Nob said. "I appreciate how it saved our life in that smuggler's cave, but that ring of yours cannot be trusted."

"I cannot agree with you more." I got doused once more.

"Then why give it to the wizard in the first place?"

"I had the mistaken impression that the destruction of the One Ring would deprive others of their dark power, make them harmless."

"That is...unfortunate."

"Indeed. One often falls into the same mistakes as one's ancestors without meaning to." He raised a bucket of water.

"No more!" I yelled. "Blasted elf! It's freezing out here and you're about to make me into an icicle! Stop, I say! I cannot take any more!"

"You should be grateful," said Legolas. "Water weakens the effectiveness of the acid."

I coughed and sputtered as I paused to take in my surroundings.

I'd been dragged to the stables near the town square, hence the ample supply of water. The items not in ample supply: Horses and stable help. A glance inside the gate told me everything I needed to know: The dragon things had slaughtered every steed in the city.

I frowned at my robe. Sodden, tattered, faded, and threadbare in places where the acid touched.

"Gandalf, what in Hel was going through your mind? I saw you kissing that thing?"

"I..." I wiped my face, braced myself for another bucket of water.

None came. "I told you I had been hallucinating...Nob, where is your sister?"

My diminutive associate frowned in disgust. "He needs another bucket of water."

"Now you're just being mean spirited because you don't want us—"

A bucket of water silenced my mouth, but it could not quiet my newfound feelings for the female Hobbit.

There I was, in the Queen's bedroom...

In a state of utter disorientation, I pushed a decapitated monster carcass away from me, and stumbled out of the Queen's bed, anointing myself with a vials of milk and baking soda.

As I threw on my robe, I noticed a black shape looming over my Hobbit associate's shoulder.

He stood in the bathroom, too far for me to offer any sort of protection.

I pointed in his direction, but, of course, he paid more attention to the dead body of Mister Aragorn...until he noticed the low hissing, and something burning his shoulder.

"Nob!"

A plump figure in shiny armor tackled him to the floor.

Once my friend snapped out of his cow-like daze, he gaped at the female in shock. "Lulu?"

The freckly red haired Hobbit stood up, drawing a crossbow adorned with shiny silver bolts.

The female riders of Rohirrim wore very little, and cut their hair short. Dragon scale or Mithril vests for the upper body, a garment of similar material about the loins for some semblance of modesty. I...would not describe them as pants. A large portion of the rear tended to remain exposed.

As a Hobbit, though, this armor proved a very loose, improper fit, the effect more like the little black dress' Still, very fetching, and I had a thing for Rohirrim. A very nice view of her legs.

I once witnessed a rugby game between Rohirrim women...I did not like sports before this.

Far more stunning: Her warrior's ferocity, the nimble grace she displayed dodging the beast's attacks, her skill with the crossbow. I stared in speechless admiration as she shot the creature's skull full of Mithril bolts, leading it, dying, into the path of Legolas's waiting sword.

As we stood above the fell beast's steaming carcass, I admired the strange Hobbit's pudgy but very pleasant looking face, giving a polite bow. "Well, hello, fair maiden! You are deadly as you are beautiful. A credit to all Rohirrim. I only regret that we have not yet been acquainted."

"Gandalf, are you daft?" Nob hissed. "That's my sister!"

The female rolled her eyes at me. "You don't remember me at all?"

I sputtered in embarrassment. "Forgive me, miss...?"

"Lulu. I never forgot you, Gandalf the gray and white. I know, I know, I'm just a humble stable maid, and a lowly Hobbit to boot. Tended your horse, I did. That, and lug you to bed when you got so shit faced, you hit your head on the barn and fell off Shadowfax."

Nob chuckled. "She was about to get you out of your clothing before I stopped her."

I gulped at the thought.

Lulu crossed her arms. "Only because they were dirty and needed a wash!"

"Oh please. You're always going on and on about his fireworks and weird stories..."

"Am not!" Her face flushed red. "You mind your own business, Nob!"

I stooped low to meet her at eye level. "My apologies, Miss Appledore. I believe we've gotten off on the wrong foot..." I glanced downward. Hobbits don't wear shoes, you know. "...When yours are so shapely and wonderfully tended."

Hairy feet, but dainty hairy feet. I've heard men say that the best way to avoid becoming a poof is to find a maiden with the features of males you admire (such as thick eyebrows), and, well, I confess developing a Hobbit foot fetish. Too much time around Bilbo and Frodo.

Lulu giggled, I daresay looking a touch pleased by the flattery.

"Don't listen to him!" Nob whispered loudly. "He's not in his right mind! I caught him snogging one of those dragon things!"

"He's practicing." She put a hand on her hip. "The poor dear is lonely. Why, the night he fell off his horse, I caught him kissing that!"

My turn to get red in the face. "I did not!"

To my shame, I admit that, in a drunken state, I may have confused my horse for Arwen (gods rest her soul).

Lulu flashed me a grin. "Are you absolutely certain you didn't? You were shit faced."

I'm old as dirt, but the comment still got me flustered. Guess I'm an old fool. "Twas not a satisfying relationship for either one of us, and greatly lacking in conversation. What's more, my favorite pet is now deceased. A shame how that animal died."

"Awww, poor thing."

"He's shit faced," said Nob. "Let me and Legolas handle it."

"I'm not drunk!"

But then, once more, I reeled under the influence of...whatever spell that had caused me to kiss the dragon creature, and found myself passing out on the floor.

The last thing I heard before losing consciousness: Lulu telling Nob: "I'll grab his legs."

That is how I ended up with an ice cold bath.

"Are you quite finished torturing the poor man?"

I brushed my dripping hair aside, giving Lulu a sheepish smile.

Although shivering and wet, the mere sight of her warmed me. Draped in a bearskin mantle like a barbarian, armed with Mithril shield and sword, and of course the armor.

Was this the temporary infatuation of puppy dogs or genuine love? I could not tell, but it couldn't be denied that (from my perspective at least) we'd only just met. I prided myself in being a wise old man, but maybe I was just an old fool.

Still, the female cheered me.

"Sister, his...indiscretion just caused a man's death, and nearly caused mine!"

I clenched my fists in anger. "Nob, that attack caught us all off guard! I was fully in charge of my senses prior to the attack, but it did me no good!"

"Perhaps, wizard. But what of your actions afterwards? I would be dead, if not for my sister!"

I had no answer to that.

Lulu gave me a stern look, hands on her shapely hips. "You said it yourself. He was either drunk or bewitched my sorcery."

I shook off the cold water, but a far more terrible coldness still pierced me to the core of my being. "Madam, if you permit me to speak for myself...Your brother is correct. I cannot be trusted. Although I didn't cause the death of a dear friend, I...am not myself, and I daresay I would be putting your life at risk my even associating with you. Tis true, your brother nearly died because of me."

She rolled her eyes. "Gandalf, I am a warrior of Rohirrim. You are but a wizard."

I swallowed. "This I understand. But Aragorn...he was also a great warrior, and look what happened to him."

"Do you expect me to hold you culpable for accidents? Dear, you are being unreasonable."

I smiled a little. "It heartens me when you say such things, but, alas, it cannot alleviate this burden of guilt I feel."

"Tis understandable. Your friend just died."

"Sister," Nob said. "I do not wish you to be hurt. There is something horribly wrong with him. He just attempted kissing one of those creatures. I fear he is not of right mind. He could place you in severe danger."

Lulu only scoffed. "I appreciate your concern, Nob, but I also witnessed this man kissing a horse. Nothing a little female companionship won't solve. When a man goeth without female companionship for too long, strange things begin to work on his mind...and the man has lived for what, centuries?"

"But he is twice your height."

"Nobody's perfect."

Nob scoffed and shook his head. "Lulu, I owe you a debt of gratitude for saving me life, sister. No thanks to you, wizard!"

I raised an eyebrow. "How did you avoid certain death, Hobbit?...If you don't mind me asking?"

He frowned. "There I was...Cornered by a horrid Star Demon in the Queen's bathroom. The worst possible tactical move, as the Orc's dead body can attest. I should not have survived at all, but my sister had heard screams from the Royal Quarters, and seen the creature entering the Queen's bathroom window.

"With shocking swiftness, she scaled the tower wall by means of a grappling device, crashing through the ice encrusted window just seconds before the dark thing tore into my body."

My sister gave a prideful bow. "I am of the Rohirrim. That is what we do."

I wrinkled my brow in puzzlement. "Ms. Appledore, I'm fairly certain you...made no mention of your association with Rohirrim...during...our last meeting, yet you display impressive skill that bespeaks years of training. Our travels did not take that long."

She chuckled. "You did not ask me before."

Nob sighed. "Twas what I thought to be a passing phase of her teenage years. She disappeared for a long time, and when she came back, she wore the scandalous garb of the Shield Maiden. Mother and father were horrified. The whole family assumed her a poof!"

Lulu put her hands on her hips. "Not all ladies of Rohirrim are poofs. I, for one, can appreciate a good male when I see one. Still, some of my best friends are poofs."

I stroked my beard, staring at Nob. "Your family...not so horrified by your thievery, I take it?"

With an air of pride, Nob answered, "I did not get caught...Until later."

I scoffed.

I could tell the Hobbit despised me at this moment, but instead of voicing his outrage, he chose to ignore me. "Sister, have you any idea why the guards at the main gate may have wanted to fell Aragorn with a pot of boiling oil?"

"There has been much civil unrest in the king's absence. A riot ensued as these demon things found a foothold. There have been talks about Aragorn not caring for his people. His absence only brought the rolling turmoil to a head. A usurper has set up camp near the entrance, claiming himself the true king of this place."

I stared in admiration of the girl's intelligence. "Ah. I imagine things will become far more unpleasant for us the momeny they discover what has happened to the original king."

Legolas clenched his fists. "I had a suspicion something like this would occur, so I hid the bodies. We really must get them out of the royal quarters immediately, before they are discovered."

"Yes, but how long do you think we'll be able to maintain this charade?...Plus, if those creatures get to the usurpers, it would have all been for naught."

"Yes, but what if they survive the creatures?"

I shrugged. "If these men can survive the onslaught of such foes, perhaps they deserve to rule."

The elf scoffed. "Might equals right? Gandalf, your moral fiber appears to be dissolving with each passing moment."

"These are special circumstances, ones I doubt we will be able to walk away from."

"Speaking of which," Lulu blurted. "Gandalf! Away from the stable!"

I whirled just in time to see dozens of the small dragon beasts scampering after me like swarm of rats.

I attempted retreat, but one launched itself from the stone wall above the stable entrance.

It appeared I would be joining Aragorn in death.