(Continued By Emily)

“Whom are ye all, that you should dare to trouble our guests ?”, asked Galadriel in a stern, yet kindly tone. Just then Celeborn walked in. “Hmm… Eight there were, yet ninety now I see. Tell me, do any of you answer to the name of Peregrin ?”

“That would be me, your majority.” answered Pippin. Merry shoved his elbow into his friend and whispered, “It’s majesty, Pippin, your majesty. Not majority!”

“Give no mind to my title, young hobbit” said Celeborn in an irritated way. “What I really want to know is, where are my royal apples ?” All heads turned to Pippin, and even the White-strips salesman stopped grinning .

“Uhhhh…. when did you say we were leaving, Aragorn?” inquired Pippin in an hoarse voice. As Pippin backed up, he bumped into Merry, who also had an anxious look on his face. WHUMP! Suddenly a large store of apples, a bushel at least, came rolling out of Merry and Pippin’s backpacks.

Celeborn started to turn red, when Galadriel halted him. “Now, now, dear husband. Should not we be glad to supply this company. Be not angry with the young ones; for, I deem that these apples will be of more aid to them than thought.” She looked at Pippin and Merry whilst speaking the last few words.

“Be going now, should I”, said Yoda, who had finally persuaded Haldir to lend him a Verizon Wireless cell-phone. The other salesmen also decided to leave, since it would be of no use to try and vendor around Galadriel. The laundry maid found another load of filthy clothes and she tramped down the stairs to wash them.

“And now, trusting that the Ring-bearer is in good health once again,” continued Galadriel, ” I would bid you to depart soon. For even as I speak, the Shadow draws ever closer. Not even here is the Ring safe.” Silence fell over the room as all faces grew weary at this grave news.

Aragorn at last broke the silence. “Lady, I would obey your counsel as I would law of Elendil, yet the road which we must now take would lead us over the river and we have no vessel. Could you spare us but a little more mercy and lend us a light and swift craft ?”

To this the Lady only smiled . Celeborn, however, gave answer to the Ranger’s plea. “All is prepared for now, even as you asked.”

He then turned and pointed to a small speed boat with eight life-vests hanging on the sides. “GULP!”, swallowed Sam, who didn’t think boating a safe sport; indeed, the mere thought of riding on this ship made him nervous.
“You mean, we have to ride on, on…that?”

Merry had a grin on his face bigger than that of the Crest salesman. “Yes, isn’t this just wonderful Sam?” Boromir immediately started bouncing about. “I get first dibbs on driving!” he shouted triumphantly.

“Oh, dear!” moaned Sam. But just then, he caught Galadriel smiling at him : a calm, caressing, yet somewhat sad smile. And for that smile, Sam made up his mind that he would ride in the boat without complaining, were they to sail down every river on Middle-earth. “Though it won’t do no harm just the same,” decided Sam, ” to wear my life vest especially tight!”

(continued by Rosey)

Frodo glanced at Sam, who was nervously fingering the tie on his life vest. Pippin, who was munching on an apple, shoved Merry in the ribs.

“Now, Merry, ” he said with his mouth full, “aren’t you glad I packed those apples? Sure, we found them in the cook’s pantry, but they’ll ne’er be lost… I hope.” The boat bounced up and down as they passed over some rapids. As they neared a bridge, Frodo started up.

“Look, Sam…over there. Do you see those figures? Why, I think those are two girls. What would they be doing out here in the wilderness? Strange.” He turned his head forwards, and forgot about them for the rest of the trip. Little did he know, but the two girls also saw them.

“You know, Rosey, wouldn’t it be funny if that was the Fellowship? Imagine, the Fellowship in a motorboat! Ha, ha!” “Hee, hee, Emily, sure, can you imagine Sam in a life-vest? Hee, hee!” Both girls start giggling, and turn turn back to their own conversations. Meanwhile, in the Fellowship’s motorboat, Legolas calls out to Aragorn.

“Aragorn! I fear something evil is approaching us from upstream. My eyes can yet make out a shape, though I know not what it is.”

The Ranger shaded his eyes, then nodded. “Yes. But whatever it is, it is moving at a fast pace. We who are not at the wheel must arm ourselves with bows.” Aragorn and Legolas pulled out their bows, while Boromir drove. Merry and Pippin proceeded to eat yet another apple – Pippin claims it is a remedy to calm the nerves – and Frodo and Sam anxiously watched the river ahead. Wiping his clammy brow, suddenly Frodo saw something take form ahead: a strange shape. Frodo could make out the figure of a large log, though floating vertically, upright. Squinting, he realized that two beings were tied to it.

“What!?! Ha ha– Legolas, has the sun affected thy mind? Why, what harm can a Llama and a peasant do to us?” Boromir scoffed. For, sure enough, out of the mist came a Llama and a peasant in strange attire, both tied to a log, and drifting downstream toward the Fellowship..

“Kusco, I was warning you!” the peasant yelled to the llama. “You have to watch out on these rivers!”

“Oh, don’t tell me.” the llama retorted. “We’re approaching a couple of hippies with long hair, and a few squirts, all in a motor boat.”.

“Not only that, but they’re ARMED!!!” the over-sized peasant protested.

“Bring it on.” The llama proceeded to spit grape seeds into the eyes of the Fellowship, so no one could see but Pippin, who had hid behind Merry.

“Ooh, baaaad llama. I just knocked those dudes OUT!” the llama sneered “–And I rescued poor little lumpy here. YEAH! Boom, baby!” The llama preformed some sort of weird wriggling dance (which was hard, being tied to a floating log). Meanwhile, Pippin slowly crept out from behind Merry. Slowly raising his arm, he threw the half-eaten apple with all his force – straight towards the llama’s head.

“Yeah, yeah, uh huh, uh huh, uh HUH! I am the Em-por-er, and this is my GROOVE–” WHAM! The llama immediately fell back, and without his paddling, the log began to float away.

“Very nice boat…yeah, very nice boats…both of them.” he mumbled as he and his chubby companion floated away. Meanwhile, the Fellowship had managed to remove the grape seeds from their eyes, and began congratulating Pippin on his quick thinking.

“Well done, Peregrin! I see now that you are not entirely a rascal!” Aragorn thumped him on the back, whilst Boromir handed him his share of apples.

“I always said, Merry,” Pippin said, “A few extra apples were never unhealthy!”

Continued by Emily

After going a ways down the river, Boromir handed the wheel over to Aragorn . Pippin, who had finished eating his seventeenth apple, proposed an idea.

“Aragorn, I have been thinking about what I have done for you all back there; the llama and all, I mean. And I think for my reward, I would like to try inner-tubing” No response. “Merry could come with me too…” Still no response. “PLEEEASE! Pretty, pretty, pretty please! With sugar on top, and a cherry, and some vanilla ice-cream, and whipping cream, and oatmeal and cream, and shaving cream, and…”

“Alright, alright, already! For pity’s sake, can’t you, like, shut him up, Aragorn?” Boromir finally said.

Aragorn quickly swivelled around to face Boromir. ” ‘Like’ ?” he asked. “Boromir, did you say ‘ like’?” Boromir bent his head down in shame, and tried to make and excuse. “It , it was just an accident. I have heard the Ringbearer say it so much before that, that…it was just and accident, O.K. ?”

Aragorn gave Boromir a stern look, but said nothing more. The tenseness settled down after a while once Pippin and Merry started intertubing. Frodo said he was too tired and Sam insisted that it was all “just a bunch of nonsense for the tweens” and that “no proper hobbit would be seen on such a thing”.
Gimli, meanwhile had pulled out a fishing pole and was attempting to catch a trout. ” Ha-ha! I’ve got one! Finally! Know, my friends, you will get to taste the famous specialty of the Dwarves: Zhmuk! You take all the guts out and… Legolas! No! Wait, you fool!” At this point Legolas had grabbed the fish and thrown it back in. The fish swam away.

“Now look what you’ve done! Ooh, you elves! Must we kill nothing in order to eat?” growled Gimli. “Even the elves will go hunting at times,” Legolas replied. ” But I think we have a friend who will enjoy the fish better thatn we, “zhmuk” or not. Look!” The elf pointed to a dolphin nearby.

Suddenly, a nerdy little kid wearing a raincoat stuck his head out of the water. “Flipper!”, he said and then sank down back to the bottom.

“Alright you two,” called Aragorn to Pippin and Merry, “You have had your turn. Come on in and dry off. Legolas, did you still want to try wake-boarding? Everyone but you has gotten wet except you.”

“No, I have changed my mind. The water looks too cold, and I am enjoying getting a small tan for once. Besides, a shadow and a threat has been growing in my mind. Something draws near, I can feel it.” Aragorn, Gimli, and Boromir suddenly sprang up and grabbed Legolas and tackled him to the edge of the boat. “Aren’t we the bright boy?” laughed Aragorn. “You’ll feel it alright, that water’s not heated!” And with that, Aragorn gave Legolas a good kick in the pants and sent him tumbling face first into the river. Legolas came up, spitting water out of his mouth and trying to pull his hair out of his face (Pippin and Merry agreed that he resembled a mop when his hair covered his face).

“Pardon my interrupting and all,” Sam put in, “But it seems to me that we should move a bit, lest we smack into those big statues.” They turned to see three statues. Two kings holding out their arms, and one lady holding a torch high up into the air. “Who’s the chick?” asked Boromir. Aragorn turned but said nothing to him. Instead, the rugged, battle-worn ranger turned his gaze to the tall statues of the kings. “The Argonath, my kin” he whispered to the hobbits.

“Your related to a bunch of rocks?” shouted Pippin. Merry shoved Pippin with his elbow again. “No, no, stupid! They’re statues of people that were his kin! See, there’s the King and there’s the Queen” Aragorn looked at Merry. “Nooo, those are both kings, Merry. I know he doesn’t have a beard, but that one’s a guy too.”

“Who cares if they’re a girl or a guy?”, shivered Legolas. “Just start the boat and get us out of here! Where are we camping tonight anyway, Aragorn?” The soggy elf had just crawled out of the water again, as he had attempted to push Gimli in, but only succeeded in being tossed over again. “We shall make camp there, at Amon Hen, oh Wet One,” Aragorn answered.

(Continued by Rosey)

The fellowship’s motorboat soon reached Amon Hen, where they set camp. “Alright, everyone, collect as many dead and dry branches as possible.” Aragorn ordered. Pippin sat himself against a rock, and proceeded to start on another apple. “Not me, no,” he said with his mouth full, “I’ll make sure no one takes our luggage.”

Meanwhile, Legolas drew further and further away from the camp, collecting branches for the fire. Suddenly, he heard a familiar voice, “Yikes! Hey, man, it’s you again.” Looking up, Legolas saw the same punk that he had seen on that dreadful night, when he was pierced by the karoke leader. “Like, so, uhhhh…what’s, like, new?” the degenerate stuttered. Legolas furrowed his brow, and stared straight in the eyes of Orlando, for that was the dud’s name.

“Ah,” said Legolas, turning away, “tis as I feared. You were right. You are the me of a different dimension. And, you are a servant of the Dark Lord, though you know it not. I fear I cannot slay you, for I know not what will happen to me.” He turned away to ponder, and Orlando took this opportunity to knock him over the head with a platform shoe. After switching their clothes, Orlando pulled out a wig from his former clothes’ pocket. (One of his girlfriends preferred him with long hair, the other liked him bald.) “He, he, like, now I can be, like, in the real hip movie thing, man!” Orlando snuck off through the woods, leaving Legolas senseless on the ground.

Meanwhile, back at the camp, Merry had just noticed that Frodo had disappeared. Pippin looked up from his apple, “Strider, just where is Legolas? And I bet Frodo just didn’t want to collect wood. It isn’t fair that we should do all the work, and they goof off.” Aragorn looked blankly at Pippin, who was sitting with his legs crossed, eating yet another apple.

Suddenly, they heard Legolas call to them. “Hey, there, you guys! How’s it all, like, going, man?” Aragorn stared in dismay at the elf, while Pippin and Merry tumbled over in laughter. Gimli choked on some water he was drinking, while Sam snorted in is sleep. Boromir backed into the shadows, and took off into the woods.

Meanwhile, Frodo wandered through the woods, aimlessly, and undecided. He knew what he should do, but…suddenly, he heard a branch snap behind him. Turning around, he gasped. There was Legolas, or what appeared to be Legolas, dressed in pants that were many times too large for him, and a T-shirt, which hung like a bag around him. He was holding his head, groaning. Frodo looked closely, and saw a big bump on his head, the shape of a shoe-sole.
Just then, Legolas collapsed in a heap.

(Continued by Emily)

Meanwhile, Pippin had started a fire, but Strider had run off in search of the others, along with faithful Sam who had roused from his sleep the moment the words “Frodo’s missing” came to his ears. “So, like, where are the marshmallows, dude?” asked the oddity which appeared to be Legolas.

All of a sudden a large trampling sound was heard. A huge ferocious bear came crashing through the trees. He stepped directley on the fire, extinquishing it into a pile of ashes. “Remember, pal, only YOU can prevent forest fires! And if I catch you trying to start that thing up again, I’ll stomp you! Don’t you know were having a burn ban right now, hotshot!”

Pippin meekly confessed that he didn’t know and promised that he
wouldn’t try starting any fire again without checking the local fire district rules. Smoky, satisfied with this apology, went stomping through the forest again to find a new violater of the law.

“Whew! That was a close one, young hobbit!” said Gimli at length. ” But,” he added in a whisper to Pippin, ” I fear that we still have somebody to keep an eye on…”. Gimli gave a quick glance to Legolas, who was at the moment banging two sticks on a stump as if it was a drum set. Pippin nodded and the two kept their distance.

Meanwhile, after Legolas had went in search of his clothes (and the punk who stole them), Frodo went back to his pondering.

“None of us should wander alone,” came a voice behind from Frodo, who had whirled around to see Boromir. “You least of all…” continued the Gondorian, heedless of Frodo’s shock. “So much depends upon you.” Frodo eyed Boromir and edged away. “Frodo?” Said Boromir again, compelling the hobbit to face the giant man.

“I know why you seek solitude: you suffer. I see it day by day. Are you sure that you do not suffer needlessly?” the proud son of Denethor spoke. “There are other ways Frodo, other paths that we might choose.”

Frodo felt in some ways a temptation to listen to Boromir. Was he not stronger and more capable of bearing such a burden? But no, the words of Galadriel stayed Frodo’s thought.

“Your words would seem like wisdom, but for the warning in my heart. Confusion crossed Boromir mien. “Warning? What warning? Don’t you trust me, man?” The last words of the warrior’s speech convinced Frodo even further to run. He began backing away.

“I see your mind….you’ll take it to the Dark Lord himself, and, like, betray us all! You’ll, like, beg for death before the end!” Boromir drew nearer to Frodo as he spoke. At the last sentence, Frodo imagined himself in the clutches of the Dark Lord; Sauron sounded Frodo’s doom, and immediatly, 5,000,000,000,000,000 girls poured into the torture chamber envisioned in Frodo’s mind. “Yahhhhhhhhh!” (Frodo ran even faster as he imagined milllions of fans clustered around him, `Like, sing me an elven song, dreamboat!’ `Ohh, you are sooo cute, man!’)

“You fool!” stormed Boromir. “Why should it be your’s? It could have been mine. It should be mine!” Boromir pounced at Frodo and took him to the ground. “Like, give it to me!” the Steward’s son commanded. Frodo managed to slip the Ring on amid the violent struggle that ensued. Poof! He had vanished. Boromir slipped and was kicked by some invisible force which sent him sprawling.

As Frodo was running off towards the old ruins of Amon Hen, he could hear Boromir shouting a plea for forgiveness. ” But,” thought Frodo, “How do I know it is not a trick; for The Ring can corrupt many a mind.” When Frodo reached the top of the ledge, he turned around only to face a great fiery tower, covered with graffiti along the sides. It rose until a distinct eye was visible: red, terrible, and lidless. The eye did however, have a brow, on which a cruel piercing was visible. There was no ring though, and Frodo knew the reason why.

Back in the Shire, Gandalf had described how the Dark Lord Sauron of Grunge Rock had forged a master ring and wore it on his eyebrow. Isildur had cut off some of the brow with Narsil and the Ring was seperated from it’s master. Horrified by the malicious eye, Frodo frantically yanked the Ring off his finger, and stood gasping.

And then, Aragorn appeared. “Frodo?” he asked, startled by the hobbit’s sudden appearance. Glancing at Frodo’s shivering figure, he quickly inquired: “Frodo, where is the Ring?”

All of a sudden, Sam ran up and shouted, “Hold on here, Long-shank! We’re not supposed to be here.”

Aragorn seemed somewhat taken aback. “Who says?” he retorted.

” Right here in this book, see?” replied Sam, who held up a book to the age-worn ranger. ” See, it says right here, ‘Slowly he [ Frodo ] drew out the Ring and put it on once more. He vanished and passed down the hill, less than a rustle of the wind.‘ There, now see? You’re going against the natural plan o’ things. The Gaffer never was too keen on such doings.”

” For goodness’ sake Sam! ” cried Aragorn. ” You can’t just believe everything you read! And what blockhead, may I ask, wrote this guide to our lives?” Instantly after saying so, a giant eraser came looming over Aragorn. It was sweeping away everything in it’s path: trees, ground, sky, and… living creatures.

“AHHHH!!!!! Run, Sam! Hide!!! EEEK!!! It’s after ME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” shouted Aragorn, who ran as fast as his long legs could carry him.

“Well, Master Frodo, if this isn’t a nice pickle we’ve gotten ourselves into now,” said Sam, once the eraser had chased Aragorn far out of sight. “I suppose as that we’d better get down to them boats as the story says, before that thing comes after us, if you take my meaning.” Frodo inquired if the story told anything about the rest of the quest to come, but Sam said that it would only show to the end of the chapter.

“Seems as though a little more is wrote every time we complete the task at hand.” Sam said thoughtfully. “Just like old Gandalf used to say, ‘All we have to do is decide what to do with the time given to us’ . Oh, but I wish as that he were here to help us! But come along, Master Frodo, it’s not all that bad, we can do it. But at least I don’t have to go a’drowning like it says here in the book.”

And with that said, the two hobbits got into the innertube and paddled away down to the other shore. “I suppose that we’ll never see any of the others again,” sighed Frodo. Sam, who was engrossed in the book, stopped for a moment and reassured his master. “We may yet, Master Frodo. We may.” They walked onwards into the Eastern shadowy lands… with Frodo’s words to cheer the silence. “Sam, I’m glad you’re with me.”

(Continued by Rosey)

Aragorn sped up the hill. Every now and again he bent to the ground. Hobbits go light, and their footprints are not easy even for a ranger to read, but not far from the top a spring crossed the path, and in the wet earth he saw what he was seeking. Bending over, he noticed a footprint, freshly made, and of the size of a hobbit. “Tis’ as I thought,” Aragorn mumbled to himself, “Frodo ran to the hilltop. I wonder what he saw there? But he returned by the same–YAHHHHHH!” For, at that moment, Legolas had crept behind him, and still ill of temperament from his experience in the boat, kicked Aragorn straight in the pants. Aragorn tumbled head over heels, and landed with a SPLASH! in the spring. “Ah-hah, elf! Good one!” Aragorn laughed at himself.

“Serves you right, you big bully,” Legolas sniffled, “and, >sniff< I believe that I have my death of a cold, now.”
Suddenly, Aragorn stiffened. “Did you hear that?”

Legolas perked up, “Aye, I fear that Boromir is in need of our aid!”
For, out of the woods sprung a great, loud, blast–the sound of breath being blown with full force on a kazoo.

“It is the Kazoo of Gondor!” Aragorn sprung to his feet, and yelled to Legolas, “Quick! Come, we must fly! Alas, I hear the sound of Orcs! An ill fate in on me this day, for all that I do goes amiss!” Legolas hurried off to find something more suitable to wear than the barrel that he had strapped on, since he had discarded his punk attire. Drawing his bright sword and crying Elendil! Elendil! Aragorn crashed through the trees.

Meanwhile, Merry and Pippin ran, and ran, searching, looking, but never finding. “Ah, ooh, Merry,” Pippin panted, “can, ooh, can we have a rest?” Merry gave Pippin an exasperated look.
“No, Pip, we must find him! Why, it’s improbable! Why would he run off like that and leave US, the most seasoned and experienced travelers of all!”

“You’re right, Merry,” Pippin said, “we must keep going!” And with that they both ran into a big oak, for it is unwise to talk when running through woods. “Ooh, dear,…my head.” Pippin rubbed his head, and looked up. Right in front of him loomed a leader Orc, and behind him an army. Hearing a cry, Pippin saw Boromir running toward them, swinging his sword left and right, shouting.

Suddenly, despite all their efforts, Merry and Pippin found themselves almost unable to move. In fact, they could only move very, very slowly.

“Um, Merry,…do you have an idea why we’re movin’ as fast as snails?”

“I dinno, Pip…it must be connected with that movie thing they were doin’ on us.”

“I wonder if we are in, what they call, `slow motion’?”

“I can’t tell, Pip, but let’s watch.” They saw as Boromir was shot at left and right with head phones, and he managed to dodge them all until the leader Orc shot with great aim a pair that landed right on his head. Then the leader watched as Boromir writhed in pain, and finnaly switched the `on’ button of the radio. Boromir wriggled, made horrible faces, and finally fell unconscious against a tree. Suddenly, Pippin felt something inside him; he felt hot, and restless. Why, he was MAD! This emotion was unknown to him. He was raging! Moving as fast as the slow motion let him, he tore out his sword, and followed Merry in a fierce charge against the Orcs.
A mile, maybe, from Parth Galen in a little glade not far from the lake Aragorn found Boromir. He was sitting with his back to a great tree, as if he were retiring. But Aragorn saw that on his head was a pair of headphones; next him lay a radio, blaring in Boromir’s ears what Aragorn dared not think; his sword was still in his hand, but it was broken near the hilt from shock waves; his kazoo cloven in two was at his side. Aragorn knelt beside him, and removed the headphones. Boromir opened his eyes and strove to speak.

At last slow words came. “I tried to take the ring from Frodo,” he
said. “I am sorry. I have paid.” His glance strayed to his fallen enemies; twenty at least lay there. “They have gone; the Halfings: the Orcs have taken them. I think they are not dead. Orcs bound them.” After a few moments, Boromir spoke again. “Farewell, Aragorn! Go to Minas Tirith and save my people! I have failed.”

Suddenly, a weird knight in old fashioned armor came clanking in. He was holding a microphone, and suddenly faced them. “Okay, dudes, let’s get on with it. I’m Gwain,, and here’s my word for today.” Two more knights came in riding sticks (made to resemble horses, we suppose). One kept repeating “F” and the other kept repeating “ailed” They ran towards each other, and crashed. At this point all three freaks said simultaneously, “FAILED!”

Gwain said, “Okay, dudes, that’s my word for today, because you f-a-i-l-e-d, FAILED! See me next time for more of Gwain’s Word, Gwain’s Word, Gwain’s Word, Gwain’s Word,…” And with that, they rode into the distance.

“No!” Aragorn said, “you have not failed, but have triumphed, as few are able. Where did they go? Was Frodo with them?” But no reply came from the Gondorian.

Weeping tears of bitter sorrow, Aragorn rose from his knees.
Turning around, he faced Legolas, who was looking solemnly at Boromir, though if Aragorn was not so sad he would have laughed at the sight. Legolas was still in the barrel, and his hair was a mop from falling in the river. His bare feet wiggled in the mud. Gimli stood beside him with his head bowed in sorrow. “He never got to try Zhmuk….” Suddenly, Orlando swaggered in carrying a guitar, and began to play, “Oh, it was sad, so sad, it was sad, so sad, it was sad when the great guy went down…”

Continued by Emily

“Ah, but now I shall have you!” cried Legolas. He quickly sprang up and grabbed the punk by shirt. “Like, what on earth are you doing , man?!” screamed the distressed actor. “Taking out the trash,” grunted Legolas as he flung the wretch into the mud. A struggle ensued, which the elf easily won, and once he had recovered his own Mirkwood attire of green and dun , the elf left Orlando seething in rage, unable to do anything but clomp around in the barrel.

“Well, we must be off!” exclaimed Gimli, shaking hands with his friend in congratulations. “Yes, but to where?” murmured Aragorn, half bent with grief, half bent with weariness. “The orcs have taken Pippin and Merry, at least that is what Boromir said. Yet Frodo and Sam have seemed to leave for Mordor, if my instincts are correct. We cannot go to the rescue of both, for the orcs went towards Rohan, whereas the Ringbearer went the other way into the Emyn Muil. Which path do we choose? I cannot decide; for alas, but everything has gone amiss today!”

“Well, first we must bury the dead,” resolved Legolas . Aragorn made no reply to this, but simply laid his head in his hands. Such a heartache the ranger did not think he had ever had. The other two however, got into a quarrel about how to bury Boromir; whether they should use stones, build a mound of dirt, or if they should build a pyre and give the steward’s son the new fashionable style that the Jedi’s all use.

Aragorn, finally rising from the ground, settled the matter. “We will send him down Anduin in one of the boats, along with his weaponry and the weaponry of his enemies that he has slain.” They all agreed to this and set the warrior down the river after collecting the spoils of the dead orcs. Legolas studied the arrows of some of the orcs closely, for they were longer in the shaft than the accustomed orc arrows. When Boromir had disappeared down the falls of Rauros, they three slowly paddled along back to the western shore.

” Now, where are we to go?”, spoke Legolas at length, for they had remained silent for a few minutes after Boromir’s departure. ” Well,” sighed Aragorn,” I believe that Frodo has left, along with Sam, who guessed his master’s mind and would not abandon him. Frodo decided that he must leave us, though. Something frightened him enough to go ahead to Mordor without us.”

Legolas and Gimli thought for a brief moment. ” Maybe hunting Orcs came on him and he fled,” suggested Legolas.

“He fled certainly,” Strider answered. “But I do not think from Orcs.” What he thought was the cause of Frodo’s sudden resolve and flight Aragorn did not say (although he was sorely tempted to mention the giant eraser).

” We will go for the young hobbits and follow the orcs,” he said at last.” I would have guided Frodo to Mordor and gone with him to the end; but if I seek him now in the wilderness, I must abandon the captives to torment and death. My hearth speaks clearly at last: the fate of the Bearer is in my hands no longer. The Company has played it’s part. Yet we that remain cannot forsake our companions while we have strength left. Come! With hope or without hope we will follow the trail of our enemies. And woe on them, if we prove the swifter! We will make such a chase as shall be accounted a marvel among the Three Kindred: Elves, Dwarves, and Men. Forth the Three Hunters!”And with that, they ran off into the foliage of Amon Hen; relentlessly and steadfast now that their minds were made up. They would find and rescue the little apple lovers, be it the last thing they do.