Story Downloaded from Open Scrolls Archive (https://www.openscrolls.net)

Title: Debbie Does The Two Towers (#185)
Author: GypsieRose
Chapters: 19

Archive: Tolkien
Category: Femme Fatale
Description: The ultimate parody self-insertion is back to save Middle Earth!  So many cute guys, so little time....  **CHAPTER 16 EXTENDED:  Treebeard's love poetry!  PLUS A TEASER for "Debbie Does the King (Among Others)"!
Published: 15 Aug 2003
Updated: 05 May 2004
Warnings: Suefic!
Type: Humour
Characters: Debbie


Chapter 1 - A Stranger in Black

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This story is a sequel to "Debbie Does the Fellowship," which is also archived on this site. You don't have to read the first story for this one to make sense, but a few of the in-jokes will be funnier if you have read the first one. Please leave a review and let us know what you think!



Frodo watched as Debbie, the beautiful sorceress from another world who had freed him from the burden of the Ring, followed Gandalf into the woods. For a long time the Fellowship heard nothing except the rhythmic rustle of dry leaves as Gandalf prepared the complex spell which would send Debbie home, and a few strange moaning sounds.

Finally a brilliant flash of light issued from beneath the trees, causing all the Fellowship to shield their eyes at its brightness.

"That must be it," said Pippin sadly. "She's gone home." They waited for Gandalf to emerge and confirm the success of his magic.

And then there was a distinct sound of the wizard's cursing under his breath, and then--silence!

Frodo waited patiently with the others, sure that at any moment, Gandalf would break from the leafy cover and assure them that the Ring was safely away, and that they could begin celebrating. And yet, no further sounds emanated from the trees.

"I don't think he's coming out," Boromir whispered loudly.

Aragorn glared at the warrior. "Gandalf is a powerful and mysterious wizard. I am certain he knows what he's doing...."

And so the Fellowship waited, and the shadows grew longer as they hour grew late. And after a long while, as twilight settled on the horizon, Aragorn relented.

"All right," he said, shaking his head. "I'll see what he's about, then. Frodo?"

Frodo nodded, following the Ranger into the brush. The rest of the Fellowship trooped silently behind them.

They had no trouble finding the clearing where the ritual had been performed. There were some marks on the ground that made Aragorn, with his highly-developed tracking ability, raise an eyebrow, but he said nothing. There was no sign of Debbie, or of Gandalf. 

"Where could that wizard have gone?" muttered Gimli in frustration.

Merry placed his hands to his mouth and shouted, "Gandaaaaaaalf!"

Frodo merely stood in the middle of the clearing, a tear rolling down his cheek. He could not bear to think that Debbie had really gone for good. Sam put a hand comfortingly on his shoulder as Frodo gazed down at his feet...and noticed a glimmer of gold caught by the last rays of the fading sun. He bent down to pick it up.

"M-Master Frodo," Sam stuttered, looking at Frodo in disbelief. "Is that--?"

"The Ring!" Aragorn exclaimed. 

Frodo looked to the heavens, his voice raised in agony. "Debbieeeeeeeee!"

*******

Frodo's eyes snapped open as he came suddenly awake. "Debbie!"

Sam rolled over, looking at the worn, tired face of his poor Master, now burdened once again with the Ring. "What is it, Mr. Frodo?"

Frodo sighed deeply, cuddling into his blankets to the best of his ability. "Nothing. Just a dream."

*******

Frodo tossed and turned in his sleep, his dreams haunted by evil visions that dissipated like phantoms at daylight whenever he awakened, leaving him unable to convey them to a very worried Sam.

He didn't have any desire to burden Sam with such things anyway; his faithful friend had stood by him in so much already--first the Ring, and then the horrible loss of Debbie, and now the Ring again. The torment seemed endless.

And so, the refurbished Ringbearer sweated out his night visions in his own mind only, completely oblivious to the dark form that loomed above him and his gardener.

Sam, however, was wakened as if by a sixth sense. He rolled over onto his back and opened one eye to see if it was light yet. It was not, but the face staring down at him in the moonlight was enough to snap him wide awake and up onto his feet with a glad cry.

"Miss Debbie!" Sam shouted, joyfully hugging the young woman, then turning to shake Frodo awake. "Mr. Frodo, wake up! Wake up! Miss Debbie's returned to us!"

Frodo likewise bounded up instantly, his face lit with its first genuine smile in many days. Tears of joy fell from his deep blue eyes.

"Lady Debbie! I can hardly believe my eyes!" Frodo exclaimed, blinking away the water streaming from his baby blues. "How is it you came to be here? I thought...I thought Gandalf sent you away?"

"Yeah, well, *that*," Debbie sighed, setting down what appeared to be a very thin shoulder bag. "He did send me back, but I guess he must have gotten a little, er, distracted or something, because when I got home, I didn't have the Ring or anything."

"I have it," Frodo said glumly. "It was left behind in the woods after you and Gandalf disappeared."

"Oh, poor little Frodo! You've had to take up the quest again, haven't you?" Debbie's own green eyes brimmed with tears now, as she took the hobbit's porcelain chin in her hands. 'But why aren't the others with you?"

"I left," Frodo answered. "I knew I had to go on alone. It was the only way."

"Two of us will go quieter than nine," Sam added. "Besides, Boromir was driving us all mad with his new heroism."

"And I knew that I could do it, no matter how difficult it was, since you helped me," Frodo finished. "You've given me the courage I need to finish this quest."

Both hobbits looked up at Debbie adoringly, and then their eyes widened simultaneously as they noticed for the first time what she was wearing. "Beggin' your pardon, but aren't you cold, Miss Debbie?" Sam asked as he took in the low-cut black silk teddy which was her only garment.

Debbie looked down and smiled. "Oh, this? I was doing a photo shoot for Victoria's Secret when I suddenly came back...here. You know, this is really weird, isn't it? How did I end up here again? I don't remember anything, except getting this strange feeling that I was needed after all this time..."

"But hardly no time's passed at all, Lady Debbie," Sam interjected.

"It's been nearly a year back home since Gandalf sent me back," Debbie insisted. "And it was sooo hard to keep a secret, too--I started a web page under a pen name to write about my adventures, because no one would *really* believe them." Debbie sighed wistfully.

"Lady Debbie, would you like some clothing?" Frodo offered gently. 

"You must be frightfully cold," Sam agreed.

"In fact, I'm *sure* you're frightfully cold," Frodo said, blushing, as he looked away from Debbie's chest.

"Yeah--thanks, guys." Suddenly, Debbie threw a hand up to her forehead.

"Lady Debbie?!" Frodo and Sam hovered around her, preparing to catch her if she should faint.

"Nothing...I just don't feel entirely myself today," Debbie responded, sitting on a rock as she patiently waited for Sam and Frodo to find her some clothes.

*******

In the wee hours of the morning, a pale and emaciated figure peered down over a small cliff at three forms lying below him on the ground. The two hobbits were snuggled up to a voluptuous woman of unusual beauty, and all were breathing regularly as if asleep. Even Gollum (for it was he, of course) could not help letting his eyes linger on the comely form of the woman--but he was quickly distracted by the sight of a flash of gold around her neck. "My Precioussss...I wants her...er...it," he hissed softly to himself as he climbed stealthily down the rock toward the sleeping figures below.

Suddenly, the woman sprang awake. "Frodo! Sam! Wake up--something's here!"

Cursing beneath his breath, Gollum sprung from the rocks into the midst of the groggy companions. Try as he might, the poor, withered creature could not get a grasp on either the Ring, or the beautiful creature it adorned. "Curse these hobbitsesss...keep getting underfootses!" he sputtered, as Sam and Frodo fell all over themselves in an attempt to save Lady Debbie.

Finally, Gollum made one last desperate reach for the pretty lady's throat. *If only....*

"Ah-HAA!" Debbie shouted, tripping him up unexpectantly.

"Cursess!" Gollum cried as he spun through the chill night air. Frodo and Sam each grabbed an arm and pinned him to the ground as soon as he landed. Meanwhile, the lady fumbled in a slim bag which she had been using as a pillow, and withdrew a small white cylinder which she held up before Gollum's face.

"You haven't seen this before, but it kills orcs so I'll bet you wouldn't like it," she said sternly. Gollum whimpered pitifully. "So, um, you wanna show us through Mordor?" she continued.

The fat hobbit cried out, "Miss Debbie, no! He's treacherous!"

"Relax, Sam," answered Debbie. "I've read the book. He knows all the shortcuts, don't you, Gollum?"

"Yesss...Preciouss. We knows the way."

"You should spray him and be done with it!" Sam insisted.

"That would kill us! Kill usssss!" Gollum shrieked.

"What do you think, Frodo?" Debbie questioned.

"You seem to know a lot, Lady Debbie," Frodo responded, blinking his huge blue eyes. "I say we do whatever you think is best. After all, you're the Ringbearer again now."

"Okay," said Debbie, looking directly at Gollum. "Will you do it?"

"Yesss," Gollum readily agreed, his mind racing. He could lead them. He could be close to it...her. Yessss....


Chapter 2 - A Stranger in Red

The sun hung low in the sky as two small figures wandered under the trees some distance from Amon Hen. Merry was in the lead, a determined frown on his face. Pippin followed a step or two behind.

"I don't think we're going to find them, Merry. Not after all this time." Merry did not answer. "Maybe we should go back," Pippin added tentatively.

"We can't go back."

"Why not?"

"Because...we're lost."

Pippin blinked. "Lost? That's it, then?"

"I'm afraid so," Merry sighed. "Frodo and Sam just got ahead of us enough to get themselves away."

"Merry?"

"Yes, Pip?"

"What're we goin' to do when we're hungry?"

"Eat the rations, I imagine."

"I mean, after that?" Pippin clutched at his stomach. "I kind of figured we'd have Sam to hunt and cook for us, you know?"

Merry tensed up, listening. "I think we're going to have more to worry about than cooking...."

At that moment, two big uruk-hai stepped out of the trees and each grabbed a hobbit.

************

Twenty-four hours later, after a most uncomfortable piggy-back ride, the two hobbits found themselves in the center of an orc encampment, surrounded by squabbling orcs and uruk-hai. They were unable to follow most of the arguments, but various orcs were giving them unnerving leers from time to time. "D'you think they fancy us for dinner or...just fancy us?" Pippin whispered to Merry.

"Don't know," Merry answered. "Don't like it either way."

Just then, a particularly nasty orc approached the two hobbits, knife in hand. "Scream," he hissed, "No one will hear you. No one will help you." He raised the knife...and suddenly shouted in pain as the skin around his eyes--along with his eyes themselves--began to melt.

"Get away from them, you brute!" a distinctly familiar female voice screamed.

Merry and Pippin strained against their bonds, trying to get a good look upwards at their savior.

"Lady Debbie!" they shouted together in amazement.

She stood above them, chestnut hair billowing in the wind, alabaster skin radiant in the light of the newly risen moon. She wore red--an appropriate color for a warrior, even if the clothing itself was...far less than protective. Actually, it seemed to the hobbits to be...far less than clothing.

"Can't talk now, boys--I have orc scum to slay!" 

Debbie was a whirlwind of red lace and pepper spray, aiming at the orcs and uruks with great glee as she mowed them down, one after another. For those who did not suffer the killing allergic reaction to her deadly pepper spray, she reserved a most eloquent stab to the eye with a spiked, red high heel. 

Soon, the field was littered with orc corpses, the hobbits were freed, and the three reunited companions were sitting on a nearby rock, catching up on old times.

"So it was the weirdest thing," Debbie was saying. "I was trying on these different colored teddies, and every time I put one on I had this funny...reaction...like a bit of me was dropping away, you know? I still kind of feel like I'm not all here...I know that probably sounds funny."

"You look all there to me," Merry said appreciatively. Pippin only nodded his agreement, unable to take his eyes off the magnificent view of Debbie's cleavage.

Debbie smiled "Well, thanks, guys." She put an arm around the shoulders of each hobbit and hugged them.

Just then, they became aware of the sound of many hoofbeats. As Debbie and the two hobbits watched, a mounted horde of about a hundred heavily armed horsemen approached. With perfect precision they turned and thundered toward the field, then stopped short as the carnage there became apparent.

The man who seemed to be the leader of the horsemen dismounted and removed his white-plumed helmet. "We heard there were orcs in this area, but I see we have come too late," he said, shaking out his magnificent mane of blond hair and causing Debbie to smile appreciatively. "A mighty band of warriors must have fought here." Merry and Pippin snickered. 

"I trust you are unhurt?" the man continued, giving Debbie an appreciative smile of his own.

"Oh, um, yeah, we're fine," said Debbie brightly. "But we could use some help clearing up this mess. Do you think your men could help pile up these carcasses and burn them, Mr...?"

"Éomer," the man replied, moving forward and taking Debbie's hand. "Certainly...anything to help a lady."

Debbie fluttered her eyelashes. "And perhaps you would accompany me into the forest to find some firewood to help the carcasses to burn?"

"With pleasure," Éomer replied. He turned to his men and made an impatient gesture. "You heard the lady! Be quick about it! We will return in...a few minutes."

Debbie led Éomer by the hand into the forest as his men dismounted. "Maybe a little more than a few minutes!" she called back over her shoulder. "Take your time!"

Pippin started after the two, but Merry held him back. "I think we're not wanted in this one Pip," Merry whispered. "But never mind. Our turn will come later."


Chapter 3 - A Stranger in White

Aragorn lay with his ear to the ground, listening. He didn't really hope to hear the pattering feet of two hobbits, but it was best, he thought, to at least look as if he knew what he was doing.

"I don't believe they've run off!" Gimli puffed, coming up behind him.

Arargorn stood turning back to the dwarf, and to Legolas, who was standing just behind Gimli. "I am certain they have gone in search of Sam and Frodo. I should have seen that--should have prepared for it."

"Should have tied them to a rock before we went to sleep, you mean?" Legolas huffed. "At least Boromir had the courtesy to tell us he was going."

"And tell us, and tell us," Gimli added. "He's been a changed man since Debbie--but not changed, in a way."

Aragorn raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

"Either way, he was insufferable," the dwarf said by way of explanation.

"Still, with Boromir gone, it is left to only the three of us to search for Merry and Pippin," the Ranger reminded them. "And there are still Uruk-hai running about here. We must press on."

The remaining six members of the Fellowship had awakened the previous morning to find that Frodo and Sam had slipped away in the night. Merry and Pippin had gone off to search for their friends without even waiting for second breakfast, and they had not returned either.

Aragorn, Legolas, Boromir, and Gimli had then held an impromptu council to decide what must be done. It seemed clear that Frodo had started out for Mordor, since he had taken the Ring, but Merry and Pippin's whereabouts were unknown. Boromir, while humbly deferring to the judgment of Aragorn, was nonetheless worried about the state of affairs back in Minas Tirith now that the Ring had reappeared. 

Finally it was decided that Boromir would take one of the elven boats to Gondor and warn them to prepare for war. Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli would find Merry and Pippin and follow him as soon as they could. However, after more than a day of tracking, they seemed to have lost the trail of the two young hobbits.

Aragorn, not sure of what to do, lay upon the ground once more, and pressed his ear to the earth.

"What makes you think you'll hear any different now?" Legolas asked the Ranger.

Aragorn nearly called up some of the less-polite elvish with which he was familiar, when he caught an acrid odor wafting through on the breeze. "Legolas, go to the hill," he ordered as he rose. "Tell me what your elf eyes see."

Legolas sprang lightly to the top of the nearest, rocky crest. He squinted at the horizon. "A column of smoke, far off. Black smoke."

"That bodes ill," Gimli moaned.

"We must hurry!" Aragorn shouted as he raced over the hill. "Legolas! Gimli! Come!"

"Oh, please, no more running," Gimli whined, but the other two were already far ahead.

********

Aragorn studied the smoldering pile of mangled corpses with care, hoping that his fears were unfounded.

"So many Uruks and orcs," Legolas marvelled. "It must have been an army to have felled so many."

The Ranger bent over the pile, trying hard not to vomit at the foul stench that emanated from it. "They do not bear sword wounds...at all...."

And then, Gimli spoke words that struck at the core of the heart of the future king of Men: "This is a hobbit belt--Merry's belt."

"They...are dead, then," Legolas said sadly. "We are too late."

Aragorn screamed in frustration and kicked an orc helmet, then screamed again. "I think I broke my toe!" he howled. He hopped awkwardly on one foot for a moment, then lost his balance and fell to the ground. And there, he noticed something that made him very curious, indeed.

"A hobbit lay here," he deduced, running his right hand inches over a depression the others could barely see. "And here." He ran his left hand over an equally unremarkable patch of crushed grass. He then crawled back a bit, studying with care the place where he'd fallen himself. "And someone...not an orc or Uruk...was here as well."

"That was you," muttered Gimli.

"No, someone else," Aragorn insisted. Gimli and Legolas exchanged a look that the Ranger's perceptive abilities missed entirely, probably to his benefit.

Aragorn began to crawl about on the ground. "Their hands...were bound," he muttered as he moved. "Their bonds...were cut....Their hands were...bound...again...." He continued to work his way through the scene as he deciphered it: "...and cut again. And here there is only one impression, but a deep one, as if they lay one upon the other...but the weight is off, somehow...and then they ran...and they were followed..."

Legolas and Gimli followed the running Ranger as he headed away from the burning pile of corpses. Aragorn continued, "And they ran...into Fangorn Forest!"

Aragorn and Legolas stared apprehensively at the trees. Gimli looked at them blankly. "What's wrong with Fangorn Forest?" he asked.

Aragorn and Legolas looked at each other. "Well..." Legolas said slowly. "It's, erm...well known for its...."

Aragorn finished for him. "It's said to be a giant aphrodisiac."

"The whole forest?" Gimli asked with disbelief. He swallowed. "Well...we must find the hobbits. But if I start fancying one of you, please hit me hard with something, all right?"

"All right," said Aragorn and Legolas together. The three of them stepped gingerly into the shade of the trees.

********

"These are strange tracks," Aragorn mused, looking closely at the forest floor.

"The air is so close in here...," Gimli muttered. "And I never noticed how nicely Aragorn fills out his breeches before, either."

"Concentrate on the hobbits," Aragorn hissed, insistant.

"They aren't half the man you are--literally," the dwarf replied, low and under his breath.

"This forest is very old," Legolas mused. "Very old...and full of memory. Enticing memory of a time when Estel and I were young and fancy--"

Aragorn hit Legolas. "The *hobbits*?"

"Er...yes...hobbits," the elf stammered. He then froze in his tracks.

"What do you see?" Aragorn was almost afraid to voice the question, unsure of whether his friend was still "reminiscing".

"Something white." The elf's eyes were wide.

"We must be on our guard," Aragorn whispered. "We must be quick." He drew his sword silently from its sheath. Legolas and Gimli, bow and axe, followed in kind.

A brilliant white light enveloped the three companions, and their weapons fell to the forest floor as if ripped from their very hands. A familiar voice boomed, "You! It's about time someone showed up!"

Aragorn gazed in wonder at the sight that met his eyes. "It cannot be! You went home!"

"Yeah, well, apparently that was a round-trip ticket."

The Lady Debbie stood in brilliant glory before them, radiating a heavenly white light that made her all the more fetching. She wore a nearly ethereal, fur-trimmed baby doll nightie of a pure, sparkling white. The three companions--elf, dwarf and Man--all fell to one knee and bowed before her.

"I can't really seem to remember much of how I got here," Debbie went on. "I feel like I've been waiting...waiting."

"Lady Debbie!" Aragorn said in reverence.

"Lady Debbie...yes, that's what you cutie pies used to call me...," she mused, lost in thought. "But I am Debbie the White, now." She smiled. "And I'm feeling all warm and fuzzy in a really kinda horny way."

Gimli said, "Suddenly Aragorn's backside doesn't seem as appealing as it did a little while ago."

Debbie's smile broadened. "Speak for yourself, honey."


Chapter 4 - A Stranger in Purple

A beautiful view of golden, late-afternoon light on the gardens of Rivendell was visible through the windows of Elrond's study, but Elrond was not looking at it. Instead, he was sitting at his desk with his eyes tightly closed, pinching the bridge of his nose to stave off a splitting headache.

He had been trying to convice his daughter that her foolish preference for a mortal was, quite literally, a dead-end situation, but she had merely taken to her room in a pout. Elves always became so difficult around the age of 2900. On top of that, the world was coming to an end--well, this neighborhood, anyhow, precluding the possible success of Frodo, in which Elrond put little stock--and Arwen refused to travel off to the Grey Havens like any sensible elf would. As if that weren't enough, his mother-in-law Galadriel kept popping into his head and declaring the whole mess *his* fault. He let out a deep and lengthy sigh.

So wrapped up in his own thoughts was he that even his elven senses did not detect the presence of another person until a soft, musical voice said in his ear, "I've got some Advil if you want it."

Elrond jumped in a most undignified fashion and glared up at the woman who stood before him. At first he thought she was an elf, until he noticed that she was only of medium height. She was clad in a lacy purple merrywidow, the color of which set off her striking emerald eyes. Her chestnut hair sat high on her head in a loosely piled bun.

Elrond arched a formidable eyebrow at her. "Who are you, and what is this 'Advil' you speak of?" he asked brusquely.

"I'm Debbie," said the young woman as she began rummaging through her shoulderbag. "You're Elrond, I know. Is Arwen giving you trouble? You really should let her marry Aragorn, you know--he's a great guy. And I thought you were a healer. How can you not have Advil?" She withdrew a small white bottle from her bag and shook two tablets into Elrond's hand. "Just take those with some water and your headache will go away in a jiffy."

Elrond followed the maiden's instructions in a daze. Soon his face cleared as the medicine began to take effect. "You know Aragorn?" he asked in a milder tone.

"Oh sure," said Debbie with a satisfied smile. "We go way back."

Elrond's face darkened again. "All the more reason Arwen should stay away from him!" he shouted.

"Easy, you'll give yourself another headache...and what's wrong with Aragorn?"

"He does not have the restraint of an elf!" Elrond scowled.

The woman who called herself Debbie smiled, her eyes going misty. "No, that's for sure...but anyway, he's got a good heart and really loves your daughter and all." Suddenly, her hand went to her forehead.

"Is something wrong?"

"I don't feel so well, Elrond," the vision in purple replied. "I think I'm gonna--"

And then suddenly, she had keeled over, straight into the elf-lord's lap.

********

Debbie's eyes fluttered open and she blinked at her surroundings. They were unfamiliar, and yet somehow familiar at the same time. She realized that she was lying on an exquisitely comfortable bed with a beautifully carved headboard. A warm down comforter in a soft cream color was covering her.

Recognition dawned. "Oooh, it's Frodo's old room!" she squealed aloud. She turned her head and found that the room had one further adornment: Elrond was sitting by her bed and gazing down at her with kindly concern.

He arched an eyebrow in response to her outburst. "How could you possibly know that?"

"I know all about you, and the Fellowship. Here--hand me that bag there, and I'll show you." She pulled herself into a sitting position and extended a dainty finger toward a perfectly square, black bag on the floor.

Curious, Elrond went to the bag. The woman had had it with her when she'd arrived, and he'd brought it into the room in case she needed it. Now, however, he wondered if he'd been foolish in doing so.

"Oh, don't worry, it won't bite," Debbie said with a melodious laugh as he gingerly picked up the bag. "The hobbits call this a 'crystal window,'" she continued as she performed some complex maneuvers on the strange device which she withdrew. "I call it an iBook G4 with solar battery and DVD-Rom drive. Fortunately, I happened to have 'Fellowship of the Ring' in..."

She pressed a few buttons and Elrond gasped in amazement as the window showed him a scene of himself welcoming Frodo a few months before. He looked at Debbie with something like awe. "My lady, I do apologize for not welcoming you more respectfully. Clearly you have skills beyond even the reach of the elves!"

"Oh, don't I ever," she replied, winking at him. "But that's not all it does--look, you can play games on it too. This one's called 'Tetris'...."

********

Later that evening, Debbie sat on a bench under a tree in the cool air and reflected on how she had come to this wonderful world yet again. She remembered the photo shoot, the changing room full of lingerie, and the strange feeling of fragmentation that had come over her with each new outfit, as if a layer of herself had been peeled away. Had each of those moments represented a bit of herself returning to Middle-Earth?

How many of them had there been? She remembered the black silk, the red lace, and the white with faux fur trim before the purple merrywidow. Had the purple one been the last, or were there more? It all seemed so hazy. Perhaps when she had rested, as Elrond advised, she would remember more.

Debbie looked up to see a familiar young female elf with long dark hair standing in front of her.

"Arwen Evenstar!" Debbie exclaimed, delighted. I was wondering when I was going to meet you!"

"I came to see if you were well," Arwen responded, her dark hair shining resplendently in the moonlight. "Actually, my father was going to come, but he seems rather occupied with the 'Tet...tris...of the crystal window' currently. I brought you a cloak."

Debbie stood, taking the voluminous purple velvet cloak from Arwen's outstretched hands. She wrapped it about her body, revelling in its soft folds.

"It's a little too long," Arwen noted sadly. "I'll have to hem it for you."

"You can't be sad like that over a silly cloak," Debbie hedged, sitting down again. "What's eating you?"

Arwen screwed up her nose a little.

"Come on--I think we could be like sisters, you and I," Debbie insinuated. "Or maybe closer. I have a feeling we have someone...er, some*thing* in common." She patted the bench next to her and Arwen took a seat. "Now then," Debbie began, "first, I know all about you and Aragorn, and I'm on your side."

Arwen's eyes filled with tears. "You don't know how good it is to hear that," she sniffled. "Nobody here understands. 'Why don't you marry Figwit?' Daddy keeps saying. 'He's a perfectly nice elf.' Hmph! I didn't see *him* volunteering for the Fellowship. But when Aragorn's away, it's like a part of me is on the other side of middle-earth. You can't imagine how that feels..."

"Oh, I think I can," Debbie replied.

"And now Daddy's talked him into breaking up with me, and I don't think I can *stand* it!" Arwen wailed.

"There there," said Debbie, wrapping her arms around Arwen as the elf princess sobbed damply onto her shoulder. "I've seen Aragorn, you know, and he misses you very much."

Arwen disengaged momentarily from Debbie's embrace. Her eyes narrowed. "You've seen Estel? Dressed like that?"

"Um...no, I wasn't wearing...this. But that's not important anyway. What's important is that he wants you to be happy."

"He said that was why he was leaving me...." Arwen's eyes spilled over with tears again. Debbie silently handed her a kleenex which she produced from her shoulder-bag, and Arwen blew her nose loudly.

"I want to see you two get together," Debbie whispered sympathetically. "So Elrond wants you to marry Figwit, huh? He's that cute elf with the long dark hair who was at the Council, right?"

Arwen nodded with a look of astonishment. "How did you know about--?"

Debbie smiled to herself. "Never mind, I'll explain later. But I think I can start by getting him out of the way for you...."


Chapter 5 - Stranger Danger (EXTENDED)

"So those are the Dead Marshes, huh?" Debbie wrinkled her cute, upturned nose. "The *Stinky* Marshes would be a better name."

"I've been smelling something fishy since long before the Marshes," Sam complained, looking sidelong at Gollum. He'd been extra-grouchy ever since he'd realized that their unwanted fourth companion meant no quality time alone with Debbie.

"Oh...maybe I can clean up in the water in here, if it isn't too icky," Debbie rambled happily. "Well, on we go!"

Sam's eyes were dubious as he surveyed the vast expanse of squishy ground leading toward the red sky of Mordor. "Are you sure this isn't some kind of trap?" he asked

"Like I said, it's in the book," Debbie replied. "I'll show it to you in the crystal window if you want. Although actually I think we're in the movie, mostly, but this bit's pretty much the same either way." The three other travelers looked at her without comprehending. She smiled down at them. "So yes, it should be safe to go in. Lead on, Sméagol!"

Gollum's face suddenly underwent an astonishing change at the sound of that name. "Wh-what did ssshe call me?" he gasped.

"Sméagol--it's your name, right?" Debbie smiled upon the twisted creature as one would upon a lost mongrel pup.

"That's what Gandalf told me in Moria, anyway," Frodo interrupted in a tone of voice that sounded as if he was a tad put-out.

"Something wrong, Frodo darling?" Debbie questioned, blinking her long lashes.

Frodo stammered, forgetting himself. "Er, no. Lead on, Sméagol!"

"Good Sméagol leads the *new* Preciousss and the hobbitsess! Good Sméagol finds the way!" Gollum mused cheerfully as he leaped over puddles and onto drier thickets of weeds.

Frodo and Sam followed Gollum, with Debbie bringing up the rear. She shivered a little and wrapped her arms around herself in the cold breeze. The hobbit breeches and shirt she was wearing were warmer than the silk teddy, but neither Frodo nor Sam had had a pair of boots to offer her. Still, she reflected, perhaps barefoot was a better way to travel over such squelchy ground. Nothing was more miserable than wet shoes.

Frodo stopped and looked back at her. "Lady Debbie, is the Ring troubling you?" he asked anxiously, his wide blue eyes alight with concern. "Could I carry your crystal window for you, since you have taken the burden of the Ring from me?"

Debbie started to say that the computer bag really wasn't very heavy, then decided that perhaps Frodo would feel better if he had something to do.

"Thanks, Frodo. You're the best." She was pleased to see his face light up with its old happy smile as he took the bag from her.

The group continued marching along the soggy ground, following Gollum's spry lead. Little jets of flame now began to spurt up at intervals, and Debbie surreptitiously warmed her toes at one as she passed by.

Eventually, growing bored with the endless browns and greys of the marshes, Debbie peeked over into one of the pools. "Hey! There's, like, dead guys in the water!"

"Yessss...the Dead Marshes--that'sss what they are called. Orcses and elveses and men. Don't look at them, Precioussss...."

Debbie nodded, but found that she couldn't turn away. They looked so remarkably well-preserved, for having been here so long. Some of them were even kind of cute--or would have been, if they weren't so...dead. Suddenly, with all the bending over, she began to feel faint. "Oh--I should've been more careful," she whispered, just before she plunged headlong into the murky water.

Debbie quickly shut her mouth to avoid swallowing any of the disgusting-looking water. Various white, ragged-looking beings seemed to be floating toward her with outstretched hands. Ignoring them, she kicked her feet and swam strongly toward the surface. She treaded water for a moment. "The ghosts at the Halloween Haunted House are much scarier than that," she muttered.

On a nearby patch of firm ground, the hobbits and Gollum seemed to be arguing about something.

"Good Sméagol must rescue the precioussss!" Gollum was pleading.

"You're just tryin' to work your way into Miss Debbie's heart, aren't you?" Sam retorted furiously.

"I should do it," Frodo insisted. "She took the Ring for me, after all."

"Guys!" Debbie called out.

"We shall save the Preciousss!"

"You're not doin' any savin' of Miss Debbie!"

"I should rescue her, since it's my fault she's in this mess to begin with!"

"Guys! I'm okay! I don't need saving!" Debbie climbed up out of the water and approached the arguing companions.

"My Precioussss!"

"Miss Debbie!"

"Lady Debbie--you're all right!"

"Of course I am. A little wet and cold, but other than that, I'm fine. Now Sméagol, you said you'd lead us, so lead on!"

"Yesss, yesss!" Gollum cavorted around joyfully as he continued on their way.

*******

Some time later, the four travelers rested in the shadow of a scrubby bush. The hobbits and Debbie were nibbling lembas.

"You should try some, Sméagol," Debbie said. "It tastes kind of like Lorna Doones." She held a wafer out to the creature, but he shook his head and turned away.

"Stupid elveses make bad food."

"Suit yourself," Debbie replied with a shrug.

Frodo watched the scene with a smile. Hard though the way ahead of them was, he could not help feeling certain that everything would be all right now that Lady Debbie was with them once again.

Suddenly the murky air was filled with the sound of unearthly screeching. "Black riders!" shouted Sam, and they scrambled into what little cover the bush provided.

"Wraiths! Wraiths on wings!" Gollum moaned as he cowered nearby. Frodo gazed upward through the branches and saw above him a massive winged beast, atop which sat a Ringwraith who was eagerly surveying the ground below.

Debbie squinted at the rider above them. "Wow...he's tall, dark, and...dark."

As the rider on the fell beast approached, icy pain shot through Frodo's shoulder. He whimpered and buried his face in Debbie's lap.

"Frodo? Are you okay?" she asked, stroking his hair.

Frodo heard Sam's voice: "I'll warrant his wound's bothering him again, from when that nasty wraith stabbed him up on Weathertop."

"Poor Frodo," Debbie's voice murmured sympathetically. "Maybe I could do something to cheer you up, huh? When the wraith is gone?"

"That would be lovely, Lady Debbie--" Frodo managed to say between clenched teeth. "But it hurts...."

Debbie clicked her tongue. "Let me have a look." Frodo felt his shirt being pushed back by soft, cool fingers. That touch in itself was almost enough to make him forget the shrieks of the nazgul, now growing more distant as the beast retreated.

"Oh!" said Debbie. "I think I see the problem. Looks like you still have a little sliver of something in your shoulder. It's worked its way almost up to the surface now. Just let me find my tweezers...."

Frodo heard Debbie rummaging through her shoulderbag. After a short pause, there was a single, sharp tugging sensation in his shoulder and then the pain rapidly receded. He sat up to find Debbie triumphantly holding up her tweezers, which gripped a dull grey shard of something about a quarter of an inch long. Even as they both looked, the shard vaporized and blew away on the damp breeze.

"There, is that better?" Debbie asked brightly.

Frodo moved his shoulder experimentally and found that all trace of pain and stiffness were gone. "You've cured me!" he shouted with delight as he leaped forward and threw his arms tightly around Debbie's waist.

At almost the same time, Sam shouted "You've cured my master!" and and threw his arms around Debbie from the other direction.

"Aw, it was nothing, guys!" Debbie said modestly. "Just basic first-aid techniques I learned in Girl Scouts!"

As the three of them disentangled themselves from the joyous hug, Frodo saw that even Gollum was watching them with something like a smile.

*******

At long last they reached the end of the marshes and set up camp for the night on dry ground. Debbie volunteered to take first watch and sat down on a handy log. Sam wrapped himself up in his cloak and promptly began to snore, while Gollum wandered off, presumably in search of food. Frodo, however, seemed unable to sleep. After tossing and turning for some time, he abandoned the effort and came to sit beside Debbie. The moonlight shone on his tumbled curls and large, soulful eyes.

Debbie smiled warmly as she looked into his troubled face. "Couldn't sleep, huh? What's on your mind?"

"Lady Debbie, I...I feel like I'm just a liability to you," Frodo answered sadly. "First I couldn't save you when you fell into the water, and then I was no help when the ringwraith flew by....in fact, *you* had to help *me.*"

Debbie frowned delicately. "Oh, Frodo, how can you think that? You're *very* helpful. You kept my computer from falling in the water, didn't you?"

"I feel like I should be doing more for you...you've taken over the burden of the Ring and all...." Frodo's shoulders slumped and he looked at the ground.

"I keep telling you, it's really no burden. You're too hard on yourself." Debbie threw her arms around the disconsolate hobbit and hugged him tightly. She heard him sniffle once, but when she drew back, she saw that his face wore a somewhat more hopeful expression. Debbie grinned impishly at him and nudged him in the side. "I'll tell you *one* thing you could do for me...something you're very good at...."

*******

Perhaps an hour later, Gollum made his way back toward the campsite. Some unusual sounds drifted toward him on the still night air, muted as if the people involved were trying not to make too much noise. He softly drew closer so as not to disturb them, and watched the scene before him with rapt attention. 

"So bright...." he could not help muttering. "Sooo beautiful. Our preciousssss...."

NEXT CHAPTER: Gandalf returns!


Chapter 6 - The Other Stranger in White

A clear dawn was breaking over the grasslands of Rohan. Birds were twittering madly and somewhere far off, you could almost hear a flute playing "Morning" from the Peer Gynt Suite. It was that kind of day. 

A lone figure in a white robe strode across the hills, leaning on a white staff and occasionally cursing under his breath when he stubbed his toe on a rock. Eventually he sat down on a convenient tree stump and looked wearily across the vista spread below him. He reached into his pocket for his pipe, then remembered he no longer had it since he got the new clothes. He tried chewing on a piece of grass instead, but found it unsatisfying and soon spat it out.

Gandalf sighed, gazing out toward Fangorn forest, the edge of which could just be seen in the distance. He knew he could not rejoin his companions until he had an explanation for the bizarre events of a few days ago, but so far his best efforts has proved fruitless.

Just then his ancient eyes, still keen, spotted something he did not quite expect. A woman in red, with flowing chestnut hair, strode hand-in-hand into the woods with two smaller folk who were unmistakeably hobbits.

Gandalf stood and squinted. "It cannot be!" he mused, amazed. "This bears investigating, I think!" He strode puposefully toward the forest, white robes billowing in the breeze. Hardly sparing a glance at the gigantic pile of ash in the clearing, he made straight for the spot where he had seen the three figures disappear among the trees.

Though he moved as quickly as he could, they were nowhere to be seen by this time. As the wizard stepped into the shade, he felt a familiar tingling sensation come over him, and he looked up in surprised recognition. "Ah yes, Fangorn," he muttered to himself with a fond smile. "Wonder how old Treebeard's doing...." Deciding that one direction was as good as any other, he struck out at random.

Gandalf listened carefully as he crept about the forest. He heard birds; he heard the voices of the ancient trees, calling to each other; he heard snoring.

Snoring?! The wizard quickened his pace, heading directly for a close copse of young saplings from behind which the offending noise was emanating. He parted the trees and gazed beyond, shaking his head in a double-take when he got a good glimpse of the glade.

In the midst of the glade, tangled amongst the long grasses--and each other--were a Man, an Elf, a Dwarf, and...the Lady Debbie. Dressed, or half-dressed at least, in white. Gandalf cleared his throat loudly as he strode forward.

The Elf stirred a bit, blinking away the trance he'd been in. "Er...the white wizard approaches?"

"Legolas, your elf eyes need some assistance," the Man moaned as he rolled over, crushing the tender grasses beneath his weight. "That's the second time today that...oh."

"If that's Saruman, tell him to get in line," mumbled Gimli sleepily, tightening his arm around Debbie's waist.

Debbie yelped daintily. "Gimli, I can't breathe!" She opened her eyes and found herself looking straight up at Gandalf. "Well, hello there," she purred with a ravishing smile. "I didn't think I'd be seeing that staff again soon...."

Gandalf coughed, trying not to look pleased. "Where did you leave the hobbits?" he asked, frowning at Debbie from beneath his bushy eyebrows. "And, er, what happened to your red...garment?"

She blinked innocently. "Hobbits? What hobbits? And I am Debbie the White." She wrinkled her perfect little turned-up nose. "Red is such a slutty color."

"I rather liked it," murmured Gandalf.

"Gandalf," Aragorn asked, grabbing Legolas to cover his shameful nakedness. "Where have you been?"

"I might ask you three the same question," the wizard responded defensively.

"We were following the hobbits' trail. They ran off, you know. First Frodo and Sam, and then Merry and Pippin behind them," Gimli responded in the Ranger's stead.

"Fine job of keeping the Fellowship together, Aragorn," Gandalf chided.

The future King of Men tried to bury his face in Legolas' hair, but the Elf Prince tossed his head indignantly. "Will you *please* stop using me as an elven shield?" he huffed. "People will start to talk."

"People already do," said Gimli.

Legolas retrieved Aragorn's coat from the ground and threw it at him, none too gently. He then busied himself at replacing his own clothing.

"Anyhow," Gandalf continued, pressing on, "I followed Debbie--dressed in red, mind you--and two of the hobbits into this forest. And then I came upon you all." His eyes narrowed. "And you were doing...?"

"Just doing what comes naturally," Debbie chirped, with a dazzling smile.

"Fangorn Forest, you know," Legolas added by way of explanation.

"At least we know the hobbits are in safe hands," Aragorn said, wrapping his coat awkwardly around his waist as he searched for his trousers. "Could you tell which of the hobbits you saw?" he continued as he pulled one of his boots out from under Gimli.

"It appeared to be Meriadoc and Peregrine," Gandalf answered.

Debbie continued to smile blissfully. "Well, that settles it--I haven't seen them since I got here. They must be with one of the others."

"Others?" Gandalf raised an eyebrow.

"Yes, others. Something happened when you sent me back, Gandalf. I didn't feel--whole, somehow. I remember getting this underwear job, and as I tried stuff on, it felt like I was peeling away or something. And then, suddenly, I found myself back here, amongst all of you."

"You never mentioned this before, Lady Debbie," Aragorn stated as he pulled his trousers down from a low-hanging tree branch.

"It just occured to me," Debbie responded. "Besides, we were kinda busy before, weren't we?"

The Ranger blushed deeply beneath his stubble.

Legolas, already fully clothed and looking crisp as ever, was now French-braiding his flaxen hair with nimble fingers. "Speaking of being busy," he said casually with a sidelong glance at the wizard, "Just what were you up to all this time, Gandalf?"

Gandalf coughed and found that all eyes were fixed on him. "I...that's not important."

"Not important?" cried Aragorn indignantly. "We thought you were in danger!"

"You didn't exactly run off looking for me, did you?" Gandalf accused.

"Er...no." The Ranger stared at the ground.

"That's beside the point," Legolas insisted. "Where *were* you?"

Now it was Gandalf's turn to look at the ground. "I...er...remembered some pressing business in Rohan."

"So pressing that you couldn't even say goodbye to us?" growled Gimli. He clambered to his feet, clutching his unbelted trousers to keep them from falling around his ankles.

Debbie the White defused the tense moment by letting out a tinkling giggle. "Sillies! He was embarrased, weren't you, Gandalf?"

"Wizards do not get 'embarrassed'!" Gandalf shouted. Legolas, Gimli, and Aragorn shrank back from his awsome presence.

Debbie, however, remained unfazed. "C'mon, Gandalf, be honest! You flubbed the spell because your mind was on...other things. And you didn't want to face the others, so you left."

Legolas clicked his tongue in disgust. Gimli impatiently tapped his foot. And Aragorn shook his head.

"You could've just told them," Debbie insisted. "I'm sure they would've understood. Right, guys?"

After a pause, the others nodded enthusiastically.

Gandalf ran a hand over his face. "This is all beside the point, really. We have pressing matters to attend to."

Gimli asked, "Finding the other Debbies, you mean?"

Both Aragorn and Legolas exchanged wry smiles.

"No, you fools! There's a war on, you know. Rohan is in danger. We must get to King Théoden as soon as we can."

"Théoden," mused Debbie. "I forget which one he is. Is he cute?"

NEXT CHAPTER: More fun with Debbie the Purple, aka Rivendebbie!


Chapter 7 - Beautiful Stranger

"Thanks, Figwit! That was fun!" Debbie blew a kiss to the handsome but tired-looking elf who was lounging back on the silk-draped couch. He managed a languid wave in reply as Debbie shut the door. She smoothed her hair, humming a little tune, and wandered down the hall toward Elrond's study.

As she expected, she found the elf-lord at his desk, his noble brow furrowed in concentration and his tongue protruding slightly between his lips as he tapped furiously at the keys of Debbie's computer. Fortunately he had placed it in the sun to keep the solar battery recharged. Debbie sat down opposite him and waited for a good moment to get his attention.

When Elrond showing no signs of stopping after fifteen minutes, Debbie daintily cleared her throat. "Lord Elrond? Could I have a word with you?"

"Mmm," he answered, not taking his eyes off the screen.

"It's about Aragorn..."

Elrond scowled as his elegant fingers continued to fly. "I don't see how Arwen's desire to marry that...Man is any of your business."

"She's miserable, Elrond. Don't you want her to be happy?"

"Of course. But I know she'll be unhappy with...him...in the long run."

"But you, like, raised Aragorn and all, right?"

"Yes. Your point?"

"If you put the laptop down and stop playing Tetris for a minute, I'll explain."

Elrond sighed. "Fine. There, it's paused. Now...?"

"If you raised Aragorn, he's pretty much got elf values, right? All he's missing is the immortality."

"Yes...this isn't changing my mind, you know."

"I'm not finished. If she goes for the immortality, Arwen's gonna have a limited number of elven mates to choose from. As I see it--with me?"

"Yes, yes. That was a good game I had going, you know."

"You can get back to it in a minute. As I see it, top on the list of available elf males in your eyes is Figwit. You do realize where Figwit's been the last couple of days, right?"

"I...enlighten me."

"You look like you have a headache. Want another Advil?"

Elrond clenched his teeth. "Tell...me...about...Figwit."

"I don't think I have to, really."

"He? And you? And he?"

"Right. So much for 'the restraint of an elf,' huh?"

Elrond moaned.

"So really," Debbie continued, "It's back to the fact that Aragorn's a mortal, and that's minor. Don't you remember what it was like to be in love?"

Unexpectedly, Elrond's eyes filled with tears. "It's been so long..." he murmured sadly. Debbie handed him a kleenex.

"Oh, you poor dear," she said, coming around the table to sit on his lap. She stroked his intricately-knotted hair sympathetically. "Your wife's in the West, isn't she? I'll bet you haven't had any fun in a long time."

Elrond pouted, shaking his head, all thoughts of Tetris high scores momentarily forgotten.

*********

"Elrond, I think you made up that bit about elven restraint. Unless you meant the thing with the silk scarves."

Debbie was amusing herself by trying on one of Elrond's satin dressing gowns. She admired her reflection in the full-length mirror. Purple always had been her color. She turned to see Elrond sitting up on the bed, a peculiar mixture of bliss and horror on his face.

"Restraint..." he groaned. "What have I done?"

"What *haven't* you done?" Debbie asked with a wink.

"I need a drink." Elrond looked around for his dressing gown, realized that Debbie was wearing it, and selected another from his spacious wardrobe. He pulled it on as he strode from the room, Debbie following behind him.

"Was it that bad?" Debbie called. "You seemed to be having fun at the time."

Elrond stomped down the corridor directly to an ornately carved cabinet, opened it, and began to rummage within. "That's it exactly," he moaned. "This is unforgivable."

"Not really. You're only hu--oh, wait. Well, you're male, and most males I know have the same healthy reaction you did when they're with me. Well, maybe not in the same positions--"

Elrond produced from the cabinet a small decanter and an even tinier glass. He fumbled with the stopper and poured the clear liquid into the glass as soon as he got it open. "Down the hatch!" he cried, tossing back the shot in one draught and immediately following it up with another. Then, unexpectedly, he began to giggle madly. "Sure was fun, though! Haven't had so much fun since m'wife...m'wife...aw, m'wife went to the West without me and I'm lef' behind...." He hiccuped.

"DADDY!" A disheveled-looking Arwen entered and strode forward angrily.

"What?" Debbie and Elrond asked together.

Arwen made an exasperated noise. "He really can't hold his miruvor," she told Debbie. She tried to take the bottle from her father's hands, but he snatched it back too quickly for her to grab it.

Elrond took a swig directly from the bottle, leaned back against the wall with a beatific grin, and sang softly: "Hey, ho to the bottle I go...to heal my heart and drown my woe...." He paused in his singing to inform them solemnly, "That's a hobbit song, y'know."

"Daddy, no!" Arwen scolded. She made another grab for the decanter, and this time she was successful. Elrond slid gently down to the floor, leaned against the cabinet, and promptly fell asleep. Arwen sighed, handing the decanter to Debbie. "He'll be out for a while."

Debbie took an experimental sip of the miruvor before replacing it in the cabinet. It tasted, remarkably enough, like Boone's Strawberry Hill.

Meanwhile, Arwen was trying to wrestle her father into an upright position. "Help me get him back to his room," she panted.

Debbie and Arwen each grabbed one of Elrond's arms and began to drag him unceremoniously down the hallway toward his private chamber. As they made their way down the hall, a door opened and a handsomely tousled blond male elf looked out. "Arwen?" he called plaintively. "Aren't you coming back to bed?"

"In a minute, Glorfindel," Arwen answered sweetly.

Debbie raised her eyebrows. "Hey, I thought elves only fell in love once for life?"

"Oh," Arwen said with a cheeky smile, "we do. But that's love. This is just sex."

"Wow," said Debbie with new respect.

NEXT CHAPTER: Debbie the Red meets Treebeard!


Chapter 8 - Stranger and Stranger

Looking like an exotic tropical bird, Debbie the Red wandered through the cool green and brown undergrowth of Fangorn Forest. Merry and Pippin followed eagerly at her heels. Their progress through the forest had been sporadic, as they had all frequently felt the need to stop for...refreshment since stepping under the trees.

"Say, Lady Debbie, there's something I've been meaning to ask you," Merry began slowly.

Debbie flashed him her enchanting grin. "Sure, what's that?"

"Cousin Frodo told me once that you'd said you hated killing things, even spiders. So how is it that you didn't mind killing all those orcs?"

"Well, I couldn't let them hurt you guys! Besides, I think killing orcs is *good* for your karma."

The two hobbits nodded as if this explanation made perfect sense.

After a few more minutes of walking, Debbie felt compelled to take a rest. "These high heels are nice-looking, but they're not the most practical things for walking through a forest," she sighed, sinking gracefully to the ground under a large tree. Merry sat down beside her.

Pippin looked up into the branches. "I think there's some apples up there, Lady Debbie. Would you like me to get you one?" Without waiting for a reply, he scrambled onto the lower branches and rapidly began climbing.

Merry and Debbie both tilted their heads back to watch Pippin's progress through the leaves. "He can really move!" Debbie remarked. "But then again, so can you...."

"I'm in the mood for a little 'moving' now," said Merry, waggling his eyebrows as he made a playful grab for Debbie.

Pippin's voice floated down. "Don't start anything without me! I'll be down in just a second!"

"And I'll be up by then!" Merry called back as his hands began to move over Debbie's lace-covered waist.

"Ooo, Merry," she giggled. "That tickles!"

Debbie's high-pitched squeal was echoed by another high up in the branches of the tree. Merry and Debbie quickly broke apart and craned their necks in an attempt to see what was happening to Pippin.

"Pippin? Are you all right?" Merry called anxiously.

"Pippin?" added Debbie after a few moments.

The only answer was a noise that sounded oddly like "Hoom."

Suddenly both Merry and Debbie found themselves swept off their feet by huge, bark-covered hands and lifted up to gaze into a pair of equally huge, amber-colored eyes. Pippin was clinging to the trunk of the tree near the gigantic face.

"The tree is talking, Merry!" he called desperately.

Merry's mouth opened and closed soundlessly, making him look very like a goldfish. Debbie, however, relaxed instantly. "That's no tree, that's an Ent!" she answered happily.

"Little...orcs?" said the Ent doubtfully.

Debbie tapped her red shoe playfully against the Ent's bark. "Oh, come on, do I *look* like an orc?" she asked, leaning back so he could get a good look at her.

The Ent looked Debbie over thoroughly. Since Ents never do anything hastily, this required about ten minutes of silence. "Hoom...no," he admitted at last. "I do apologize. It has been so long since I have had visitors that I seem to have forgotten my manners. My name is Treebeard."

Debbie smiled, and cheerily responded, "I know." She settled back in Treebeard's hand as comfortably as if it were a chaise longue. "Tell me, Treebeard, there's something I've always wondered about...are you a hardwood?"

********

Many miles away, Debbie the Black sat in a sunny patch of fragrant herbs with her back to a ruined arch and her laptop on her lap. Frodo and Gollum sat on either side of her, gazing intently at the crystal window. "It's lucky that I happened to have this 'Home Psychoanalysis' CD-ROM in my bag," she commented as she clicked on an icon. A shapeless black image appeared on the screen. "Okay, Sméagol, Gollum, I want you both to tell me what this looks like."

Gollum peered at the shape. His eyes narrowed. "Preciousssss...." he hissed. "It looks like the Precioussss." Then his eyes grew round and innocent. "No, no," he responded to himself in a happier voice. "Looks like fissssh!"

Sam called from the campfire he was preparing a short distance away: "First it's one thing, an' then it's another. Make up your mind, why don't you?"

"Can I play too?" asked Frodo eagerly. "I think it looks like Gandalf's hat."

Sam walked over and glanced at the screen over Debbie's shoulder. He clicked his tongue impatiently. "Any fool can see that's a balrog."

Gollum shot a glare of pure hatred at Sam. "Not Balrogs, precioussss. Balrogs don't have wingses," he hissed.

Sam folded his arms. "They do so. I should know--I've seen one, and you haven't."

Sméagol nodded his head enthusiastically. "That's right! Wingses!"

Gollum snarled back at himself. "No wingses!"

"Wingses!"

"No!"

Gollum/Sméagol rolled onto the ground, seemingly trying to throttle himself.

"You know, maybe I can do this diagnosis without the computer," Debbie mused.

As the pitiful creature rolled further away, Frodo leaped up with a concerned cry and followed him, trying to prevent him from harming himself. Sam merely watched, shaking his head. "'Opeless," he muttered. "So what do *you* think that blot is, Miss Debbie?"

Debbie considered the computer image with half-closed eyes. "A herd of beautiful wild ponies running free across the plains," she decided.

Sam smiled at her. Since he was standing and Debbie was sitting, his hazel eyes could gaze directly into Debbie's green ones. "That's right pretty, Miss Debbie."

"Thank you, Sam," she said with a blush. The sounds of Gollum's struggle and Frodo's pursuit were growing fainter.

Sam stepped closer. "They'll be gone for a while," he whispered huskily into her ear.

Debbie smiled back at him. "So...do you want to?"

"I thought you'd never ask!" Sam cried, and launched himself at Debbie with all the strength of a very frustrated hobbit.

NEXT CHAPTER: Debbie the White reaches Edoras!


Chapter 9 - Stranger in a Strange Land

The winds whipped across the plains of Rohan, causing Debbie the White's long, dark locks to blow fetchingly in the breeze. She stood just a little behind Aragorn, Gimli, and Legolas, who in turn stood behind Gandalf as they waited for the wizard to convince the town guards at Edoras to allow them all entry to see King Théoden. "You'll have to leave all your weapons at the door," the lead guard insisted.

Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli started to remove deadly item after deadly item, as if they'd all simultaneously lost a game of weapon-strip poker. Debbie tossed in her pepper spray, as a show of good faith. As she did, the guard smiled at her. "Your greatest weapon is your beauty, my lady. And I cannot possibly take that."

Debbie batted her eyelashes. "How kind of you to say that...?"

"Háma, my lady."

"Háma. Right. And you're just on the day shift, right?" She winked. Háma turned bright pink and opened the door for them without even noticing that Gandalf had failed to surrender his staff.

Debbie stepped into the hall and blinked as her eyes adjusted to the dimmer light. "You think these people like horses much?" she whispered to Gimli as she took in the decorations on every post and banner. "I mean, I went through a unicorn phase when I was about 13, but my room didn't look like *this*!"

"Let's hope they just like them in art and transportation," he growled back beneath his breath.

As they moved closer to the throne, Debbie noticed several extremely buff men in armor moving toward their little group with unsettling glints in their eyes. She smiled at one of them, who waved shyly back at her.

Debbie hung back and let the others walk on. At once, ten handsome men clustered around her.

"Welcome to Rohan," one of them said, bowing gallantly.

"Are you staying long?" another asked hopefully.

"I can show you the stables," a third offered.

Behind her, Gandalf seemed to be griping about the hospitality of Théoden's hall, but Debbie had no complaints at all. These fellows certainly seemed hospitable to her.

"Wow--so many hot, strapping warriors here!" she murmured appreciatively.

"My name's Felarof," the fourth warrior told her shyly.

"I'm Éofred!" clamored the fifth excitedly. "And I'm a *much* better rider than he is!"

A petulant voice from the front of the room shrieked, "I told you to take the wizard's staff!"

The men ignored it.

"The wizard had a staff?" Háma said weakly from his place by the door.

"You'd better believe he does!" Debbie called roguishly.

Suddenly there was a flash of light from the front of the room. Debbie twisted her head to try to see what was going on, but her companions blocked her line of vision. "What was that?"

"Oh, just the King being exorcized," said the sixth of them. "Are you free for dinner tonight?"

"How about before dinner?" said the seventh.

"How about a glass of mead right now at my place?" said the eighth.

At that moment a pale, unhealthy-looking man in black robes ran past the group, pursued by an extremely angry middle-aged blond man with a sword.

"Who's that?" Debbie asked no one in particular.

"Just the King. Nobody that important," the warriors replied in unison.

The pale man did a double take as he passed Debbie, but did not pause. Théoden, Aragorn, Gandalf, Legolas, Gimli, and a blond woman in a white dress ran after him.

"I think I might need to go out there, boys," Debbie said, insistently pushing at the crowd.

"You don't have to go yet," said the ninth warrior.

"I'm sure the King can handle it, whatever it is," added the tenth.

As if on cue, the group who had just run out the door re-entered, minus the pale man in the black robes.

Théoden glowered at the men surrounding Debbie. "Your master has left the kingdom," he growled. "Be off with you!"

"Awwwww!" chorused the warriors in disappointed tones. They shuffled away, pouting.

*******

That evening, after a dinner of peculiar-tasting stew which she hoped did not contain horsemeat, Debbie sat in her chamber at Meduseld. The evening was chilly, and she pulled the grey elven-cloak (lent to her by Gandalf) tighter around her.

"You'd think that with all the fine woodcarving, someone could make better insulated windows," she muttered, shivering. "Especially with this ever-present wind!"

She was also rather bored. Théoden had called Gandalf, Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli to confer with him, while Debbie had been left to her own devices. There didn't seem to be anything to do here, especially now that the warriors had left, and nothing to read. No wonder the King's niece had taken up swordfighting--it was probably a healthy way of releasing pent-up tension during the winter months, and keeping warm as well. Of course, with the way the girl had been eyeing Aragorn, Debbie guessed Éowyn had another plan for tension-relief in mind.

Suddenly, out the corner of her eye, Debbie spotted a pale face peeping in the window at her. At first she thought she had imagined it, but then after a few moments it reappeared, recognizable as belonging to the black-robed man who had left the hall in such a hurry earlier.

"I can see you, you know," she called out, keeping her voice reassuring. "Why don't you come in?"

He made a pitiable whining noise in response.

Debbie went to the window and held out her hand. "Come on, then." She gave the man a heave up, and soon he was standing next to her in the chamber, eagerly wringing his hands.

"You're so beautiful, my Lady," he sniveled. "It is worth my death to look upon you one last time."

"That's very nice--Gríma, right?"

"You know my name? Certainly you must be a more powerful wizard than even Sauruman!"

"Oh, I know a trick or two," Debbie answered with a wink.

"I did not mean to disturb you...I only wished to see you again, though I know you could never consider one so ugly and wretched as myself...."

"Aw--come on, Gríma. You're not...*so* bad..." Debbie smiled upon the wretch. "You just need a little 'image upgrade', is all."

"Image upgrade?" he repeated hesitantly.

"Yeah. That runny nose giving you trouble?"

Gríma nodded. "I'm allergic to horses."

Debbie rummaged through her bag. "Here's a Dristan. Should clear that right up." 

Gríma scrutinized the pill before shrugging and popping it in his mouth.

"Let's see," Debbie mused as she looked him over, "I'll need a nail clipper, maybe a small scissors to trim that hair, and we'll have to get you a change of clothes somewhere. The pale skin can stay, I suppose. Some chicks dig that straight-outta-_The Crow_ look. But you really should do something about the name. Who's going to trust a royal advisor named 'Gríma Wormtongue'?"

"And this will make me worthy in your sight, Lady?" Gríma simpered.

"It'll make you worthy in the sight of most women, including Éowyn. That's who you really want, isn't it?"

"Not any more," he answered with a pointy-toothed grin.

NEXT CHAPTER: Rivendebbie meets the Twins!


Chapter 10 - Don't Be a Stranger

In the gardens of Rivendell, Debbie the Purple sat on the edge of an elegant fountain and gracefully trailed her fingers in the water. The elves had been most...accommodating, but it was nice to have a peaceful moment to herself at long last. With her other hand, she fingered the delicate mithril-and-diamond pendant at her throat, a gift from Arwen after a...boisterous evening with the elf princess and Glorfindel.

"It's such a pretty little thing," Debbie sighed to herself as she twirled the pendant on its chain. "Kinda like Arwen herself."

Debbie had, of course, immediately recognized it as the twin to the Evenstar pendant which Aragorn habitually wore, and she had asked Arwen about it. Arwen had given a musical laugh and shown Debbie a carved wooden box full of identical pendants. "I give them to all my favorites!" the elf princess gushed.

Since then, Debbie had spotted similar pendants on most of the male elves around Rivendell, and she wondered whether Aragorn had ever noticed them.

Debbie's reverie was broken just then by the sound of two pleasant but unfamiliar male voices. She looked up and drew in her breath sharply. She had never seen the two elves who were approaching along the garden path, dressed as if they had been on a hunting trip, but she knew immediately who they were.

"Ooh--you two must be Elrond's boys!" she called as she gazed at the two identical tall, slender, impossibly handsome, dark-haired, grey-eyed Elves. "I was wondering whether you guys existed here, since it's the movie, more or less, but then Glorfindel's here so I shouldn't be surprised...." 

The twins looked at each other. "I beg your pardon?" said the right-hand one.

"Elladan, right?" Debbie said as she extended a hand to the one who'd spoken.

"Indeed. Charmed," said Elladan in surprise as he took her hand. His eyes lighted on the pendant around Debbie's neck. "I see you're acquainted with our sister."

"And you must be Elrohir," said Debbie, turning her attention to the left-hand twin.

"Amazing," Elrohir answered, his grey eyes wide. "Even our own father has trouble telling one of us from the other." He took her other hand.

Debbie looked from one to the other and sighed blissfully. "Double your pleasure, double your fun," she murmured to herself.

*******

The next afternoon, Debbie headed toward Arwen's room for their regular meeting. Since arriving at Rivendell, Debbie had been working her way through Arwen's wardrobe, trying on a century's worth of dresses at a time. Elves really did amass an amazing number of clothes in their long lifetimes, but as Arwen explained, there wasn't much else to do when you were immortal except sew. "And have sex," she'd added with a wink. Privately, though, Debbie thought none of them looked as good as her own outfit, complemented by Elrond's purple dressing gown.

As she passed the entrance to Elrond's study, Debbie paused at the sound of her own name. It seemed she was the subject of a very heated argument between Elrond and the twins. She figured that there'd really be no harm in her listening in a teeny little bit.

Elrond looked in need of something stronger than Advil as he faced his sons.

"No! I absolutely forbid it!" he shouted. "First Estel threatens to take Arwen, and now you two have this fool notion!"

"But we *want* to!"

"You're letting Arwen give up *her* immortality for Estel! Why can't we give up ours for Lady Debbie?"

"I'm letting Arwen do no such thing!"

"But she told us that you--"

"I was drunk, all right? Drunk! And not thinking clearly." Elrond suddenly arched an eyebrow. "And do you know *why* I was drunk?!"

The twins looked first at each other, and then back to their father, shaking their heads.

"I was drunk because of *her*! Everything here has been falling apart lately because of *her*! You've all forgotten that Middle Earth is in danger and order is disintegrating--BECAUSE OF HER!" Elrond thumped a fist on his desk. "Well, I've had enough of it, I tell you! I'm clearing this place out! I want you two and Arwen on the next boat from the Grey Havens, and I don't want to hear another word about giving up your immortality! Do you understand?"

"But--"

"No buts! Go and start packing!"

Debbie withdrew quietly and hurried down the hall. There would be just time for quick word with Arwen before Elrond stormed in to deliver his ultimatum.

*******

By evening of the next day, the entire population of Rivendell minus Elrond was packed and ready to leave. Debbie had half-expected to be expelled along with the others, but curiously enough, the elf-lord had asked her to stay behind. Now she stood by his side, watching as the lines of Elves filed under the window, carrying lanterns. She sighed.

"Are you sad?" Elrond asked her kindly.

"The Elves leaving Middle-Earth...yes, it does make me kind of sad," Debbie admitted.

The Elves seemed no less sad to be leaving, and most of them waved affectionately to Debbie. She waved back, blew kisses, and called out to each one as they passed: "Goodbye, Elladan...Goodbye, Elrohir...Goodbye, Glorfindel...Goodbye, Figwit...Goodbye, Erestor...Goodbye, Lindir..."

Elrond's eyebrow arched higher with each of Debbie's fond farewells.

Arwen was the last to leave. She looked back at Debbie, who winked, before following the others on their westward path.

When the lights of the procession had faded, Elrond turned to Debbie. Surprisingly, he was smiling.

"Aren't you sorry to see them all go?" Debbie asked.

"Not at all," he replied, his eyes twinkling. "Now we can finally be alone!"

Debbie broke into a slow grin. "Why, Lord Elrond, you rogue!" she giggled, nudging him with her elbow.

Before she could make a move, however, Elrond's eyes suddenly took on an unfocused look and he groaned.

"Not now, Galadriel!" he hissed through clenched teeth.

"She's, like, talking in your head, isn't she?"

"Shouting, more like. Excuse me, please, I'm going to have to take this call or she won't leave me alone all evening."

With a defeated air, Elrond slumped down onto a carved chair. For several minutes he was silent, rubbing his forehead nervously and looking as though he were experiencing severe indigestion. Debbie almost offered him a Pepcid AC. 

Finally he opened his eyes again. "You and I will have to go to Lothlórien for a meeting," he told Debbie with a sigh. "I tried to get out of it, but Galadriel insisted."

Debbie squealed happily. "Ooo! I'd *love* to see Lothlórien! When do we leave?"

"Tomorrow will be soon enough," Elrond replied, as a wide and lascivious grin played out on his face. "Care to join me for a miruvor?"

"Elrond, honey, you're not supposed to have that!"

"What my daughter doesn't know won't kill her, will it?"

"All right, but just one."

"Just one, I promise. I'd rather look at you than pink oliphaunts any time. Now then, where did I leave those scarves...?"

NEXT CHAPTER: Debbie the White goes Cliff-Diving!


Chapter 11 - Wayfaring Stranger

"It's true you don't see many Dwarf women," Gimli was saying. "They are so alike in voice and appearance that they're often mistaken for dwarf men." The Dwarf was perched precariously upon a horse, which was being led by Éowyn, the King's niece. Debbie the White and Aragorn walked beside her, while Legolas rode another horse slightly behind them.

"It's the beards," Aragorn explained, stroking his chin. Éowyn gave a little snicker that clearly indicated to Debbie her infatuation with the Ranger.

"They should use a dipilatory," Debbie suggested cheerfully. "I knew a girl with a terrible hair problem once, but a little Nair cleared that right up."

Gimli leaned over and told Éowyn conspiratorially, "Believe it or not, *I'm* a woman."

Éowyn's eyes grew round, but Debbie, who had overheard, gave a musical laugh. "Don't listen to him," she told the Shieldmaiden. "He's *definitely* not a woman. I should know."

Éowyn blushed profusely at that.

"I would scold anyone else for spoiling my joke," said Gimli, trying to glare at Debbie, "but I forgive you."

Éowyn turned back to Debbie. "So, tell me more about your 'self-defense classes,'" she said eagerly. "You learned to fight without the use of weapons?"

"My hands are my weapons. Oh, and my feet too, I suppose, in the case of the groin-kick." Aragorn winced noticeably at that. "And sometimes I use pepper spray, which is sort of a weapon, but that's optional."

"It kills orcs most effectively," Gimli professed.

Debbie frowned for a moment. "Come to think of it, I never did get my pepper spray back from Háma. Hope we don't meet up with any orcs out here."

As if on cue, two orcs on beasts like rabid hyenas rode over the crest of the nearest hill.

"Look out!" Debbie shrieked. "Wargs!"

Háma, who happened to be nearest to the approaching creatures, turned in his saddle. He was able to evade the first attack, but the warg-rider pursued him.

Debbie cupped her hands to her mouth. "Háma! Use the pepper spray! You know, the white thing!" Háma fumbled in his pockets and eventually located the item. "Spray it, Háma! Quick!" Debbie urged. The red-haired guard looked nervously at the tube, then pointed it away from him, squeezed his eyes shut, and pressed the top. Fortunately he had managed to point the nozzle in the proper direction, and the orc riding alongside him shrieked and fell off its warg.

Debbie and the others cheered, but their mirth was short-lived, as many more riders came pouring over the hills in their direction. After that, all was confusion for a while. Debbie became separated from the others and concentrated on dispatching the orcs and wargs with her customary ruthless efficiency. She was amazed to find the groin-kick worked just as well on wargs as it did on orcs.

*******

About thirty minutes later, Debbie flicked a speck of dust from her still-spotless white nightie as she surveyed the field with satisfaction. Thanks to her efforts--and those of the others, of course--not one single soldier of Rohan had been killed in the attack. And every orc and warg was dead or dying. King Théoden himself rode over to speak with her.

"Everyone's okay, then? Where's Éowyn?" Debbie asked the King as he dismounted.

"I sent her off with the women and children," Théoden answered.

"Sent her off with the women and children?" Debbie cried indignantly, placing her hands on her hips. "Listen, King or not, I can see I'm going to have to educate you about women's lib."

"I would be happy to hear about it when we reach Helm's Deep," Théoden responded with a bow, and Debbie reflected that he was rather distinguished-looking even if he was a sexist. "But now, let me give you honor for your valor, as much as I may do in this dire time." The King then placed a hand on Debbie's shoulder and turned to his assembled Riders. "Let it be known that the Lady Debbie is now an honorary Shieldmaiden of the Mark!" he cried in a ringing voice.

All of the Rohirrim raised their spears and cheered lustily. Debbie blushed.

"Thank you, but I really did nothing," she said modestly. "You should thank Legolas..."--she indicated the Elf--"and Gimli..."--she indicated the Dwarf--"and Aragorn...." She turned. "Where's Aragorn?"

"Aragorn's fallen!" Legolas called anxiously from his place on the cliff's edge. "And I can't see him!"

Debbie rushed over and passed where the Elf stood, flying over the cliff in a perfectly executed swan-dive.

*******

Aragorn sputtered, struggling to open his eyes as he lay, wounded and half-drowned, on the riverbank. To his delight, Debbie hovered over him. He smiled.

"You're alive!" she cried, clapping her hands in delight. "The CPR I learned last year worked!"

"I just had the oddest dream...," Aragorn murmured. "First, I thought I was kissing Arwen, and then, for a brief minute, I thought I was kissing my horse. But then I woke up kissing you, and that's *so* much better!"

"That was CPR," Debbie said. "*This* is a kiss." And she kissed the Ranger passionately.

As they fell together on the riverbank, neither Debbie nor Aragorn noticed the unfortunate fate of Debbie's laptop, which was first ground into the sand beaneath Debbie's back, and then kicked into the river by the Ranger's ill-placed boot. Not that it mattered much, since it had shorted out immediately when Debbie had plunged into the river.

*******

Debbie and Aragorn gazed down at the fortress of Helm's Deep from atop Aragorn's horse, which had managed to find them both asleep on the riverbank. Debbie sat in front of the Ranger, nestled against him to shield herself from the wind, which caused both of their hair to billow romantically.

"I suppose we must ride down now," he sighed. 

"It wouldn't be polite to make them wait," Debbie agreed, as Aragorn spurred the horse forward.

As they entered the great stone fortification, the assembled Rohirrim gave a collective gasp and then a loud cheer at the arrival of their newest Shieldmaiden and her escort. Gimli pushed his way through the crowd and launched himself at Debbie and Aragorn, hugging both of them tightly around the knees. "We thought you were both dead! You're the luckiest folks I've ever seen, the pair of you!"

"I owe my luck to Lady Debbie. She saved me," Aragorn said seriously.

Once they had disengaged themselves from Gimli's embrace, Debbie and Aragorn moved forward again to find Legolas standing at the top of the stairs of the fortress, a joyous smile on his face and tears in his deep blue eyes. "You're late," he managed to say as he pressed objects into each of their hands.

Debbie looked down and was touched to see that Legolas had retrieved her pepper spray from Háma and saved it for her.

"You look terrible," Legolas was saying to Aragorn, who was holding his newly-returned Evenstar pendant. The elf then turned. "But you look exquisite as always, Lady Debbie," he added, giving her a kiss on the cheek.

NEXT CHAPTER: Entdraughts, voyeurism, and swordplay!


Chapter 12 - Stranger Things Have Happened

In a large clearing in Fangorn Forest, an Entmoot was in session. Debbie the Red surveyed the proceedings from a comfortable perch on Treebeard's shoulder. Quickbeam, who had the floor, was currently engaged in what appeared to be a series of painfully slow contortions.

"It's...a....book," guessed one Ent, who appeared to be of the pine persuasion.

"A movie!" Debbie called brightly. "Oh, wait. That's impossible."

"An argument for or against going to war with Isengard," guessed Treebeard. Quickbeam slowly pointed to his knotty nose to indicate that Treebeard's guess was correct. Not that this was a surprise, as the category for every charade over the past three days had been the same.

Debbie propped her chin on her hand as Quickbeam began acting out the first word of his comment. She thought the whole experience was rather akin to watching paint dry. Merry and Pippin had disappeared sometime during the second day, evidently bored. Debbie wished she could go and seek them out, but did not want to seem rude. "Who would have guessed the reason Entmoots take so long was because they're conducted entirely in charades?" she murmured to herself. "Then again, I suppose that's typical for politics."

Just then two cheery cries from the ground caught her attention. She looked down to see Merry and Pippin waving excitedly at her from below. Glancing at Treebeard, whose attention seemed to be wholly occupied with deciphering the pantomime before him, she climbed lightly down to stand before the two hobbits. Oddly enough, they seemed a little taller than they had been the day before.

Debbie examined her shoes. "Did I break a heel?" she wondered aloud.

"Guess what we've found, Lady Debbie," Merry said impishly. "Entdraught!"

"It makes you grow bigger," said Pippin with a wink. "Want to see?"

"Most definitely." Debbie smiled, relieved to get away from the never-ending charade that served as an Entmoot. The Ents did not notice at all as the three figures slipped into the depths of the forest.

*******

Sam watched jealously as Debbie the Black, Gollum, and Frodo practically skipped into his neatly-made campsite from the surrounding brush. Debbie looked radiant as ever in her black teddy, her long hair cascading about her shoulders in a lovely chestnut torrent. Frodo, too, seemed nearly to glow: his cheeks were suffused with a delicate pink flush, and his dark, damp curls clung tightly to the alabaster skin of his forehead. Gollum loped along on all fours, obviously delighted.

"Preciousss is quite tricksy with the hobbit, yessss?" Gollum teased. He then met Sam's gaze, noticing the gardener for apparently the first time, and stuck out his tongue. "Stupid fat hobbit! Won't play with the Precioussss in front of us!"

"Oh, Sméagol, Sam's just shy, is all," Debbie explained. "Frodo is an unusually brave hobbit."

The deep azure pools of Frodo's eyes sparkled at the compliment. "Thank you, Lady Debbie," he murmured modestly.

Sam turned a bright crimson beneath his mop of honey-blond hair. "It's not that I'm not brave, Miss Debbie," he argued. "It's just that the thought of that smelly thing watchin' us in a...private moment fair gives me the shakes."

"Sméagol has a lot of baggage to work though, Sam. You ought to cut him a little slack." Debbie tousled Frodo's curls affectionately. "Frodo seems to have overcome any reservations he's had, and Sméagol is doing *much* better!" She smiled at the hobbits, then bent down and began to rummage through her pack.

"Dinner's almost up, Miss Debbie," Sam insisted, "I made a lovely rabbit stew. So if you was goin' off again--"

"I just need to change into my traveling clothes," Debbie assured him. She then cocked her head to one side, listening. "Hear that?"

Sam nodded. "Them's just birds. Been hearin' them for a while now."

"It's a northern crested soft-bellied warbler," Debbie said confidently. "Legolas once told me they don't usually live this far south. Maybe they migrate or something?"

"Legolas was talking to you about birds?" Frodo asked suspiciously.

"Actually, he was imitating bird calls...that was a very interesting evening." Debbie's eyes got misty as she recalled her earlier adventures, before she'd gone home. "Still--strange we should be hearing those calls now...well, I'm off to change!" She frolicked lightly back into the brush.

*******

"You have learned to parry quite effectively, Lady Debbie," Éowyn said admiringly as the clash of sword-on-sword rang throughout the halls of Helm's Deep. "I wish I could be as quick a student in your...Kar-aht-tay."

Debbie the White smiled warmly as she twisted the blade, swinging Éowyn's sword and arm away from her own body in a high arc. "Karate isn't easy to master. I took those classes for, like, at least two years before I got my black belt. But I'm sure if you keep practicing, you'll get good at it. Besides, you probably have to defend yourself from all those suitors you must have."

Éowyn let her sword arm fall in a most dejected manner. "There was only Gríma, and I wouldn't exactly call him a suitor," she spat with distaste. "Besides, my brother used to take care of him for me, and I used to let him, as it made him feel more useful." 

Debbie thought she saw tears welling at the corner of the other Shieldmaiden's eyes. She put her arm around the girl's shoulders and squeezed. "Don't worry--I'm sure Gandalf will bring your brother home soon."

Éowyn nodded, trying to blink away the tears. "If only I could take things as easily as you, Lady Debbie," she wailed. She looked down at her plain brown dress. "And if only I could look as good as you do, in an outfit such as yours, I'm sure then I could win the heart of....." She did not complete her sentence.

Debbie, however, knew precisely of whom she spoke. "Of Aragorn?"

Éowyn nodded, blushing furiously.

"Why don't you just go up and ask him? That's what I did. More or less."

"He would never take me over you, Lady Debbie. Not dressed as I am. Not--"

Debbie "tsked". "You know, you and I are about the same size...you have a needle and some white thread? I'm pretty good at sewing. Maybe I can make some...alterations for you that'll knock the boots right off the Future King of Men. And then you can loan me something out of your closet in the meanwhile."

Éowyn's face positively ignited at the suggestion. "Oh, Debbie, would you? Do you think it would work?"

Debbie didn't want to mention that she didn't think the Future King of Men was too discriminating at the present, so she nodded and ushered Éowyn to her chambers.

NEXT CHAPTER: Debbie the Purple does Lothlórien!


Chapter 13 - Stranger in Paradise (EXTENDED)

Dusk was falling as a white horse bearing two riders trotted into the shade of the mallorn trees of Lothlórien. One of the riders was Lord Elrond Halfelven, elegantly attired in purple garment resembling an elvish version of jodhpurs. Debbie the Purple sat comfortably in front of the elf-lord, leaning back slightly against him. "Strange...."she thought to herself. "Riding like this gives me the oddest feeling of déjà vu."

Just then a voice whispered in Debbie's mind: "Debbie. So nice to see you've arrived at last. I've sent an escort to bring you in." Then the voice turned more severe. "And as for you, Elrond, I want to have a word with you about your daughter as soon as you get up here."

"Yes, Galadriel," Elrond muttered into Debbie's hair.

The horse reached the base of a wooden structure which Debbie recognized as a flet. A handsome but rather haughty-looking blond elf was waiting for them.

"My name is Haldir," he said, looking impressively down at Debbie. "Lady Galadriel has told us much of you."

"How does she know?" Debbie asked in surprise.

"Lady Galadriel knows many things," Haldir said mysteriously. "The elves of Lothlórien are all eagerly awaiting your...arrival." He quirked an eyebrow in a way that could only be called flirtatious.

Debbie allowed Elrond to help her down off the horse and they followed Haldir up a seemingly endless spiral staircase which wound around one of the gigantic mallorn trees. "Wow," said Debbie appreciatively. "A natural Stairmaster. No wonder you elves are all so fit."

Elrond made a peculiar and undignified snorting noise.

At last, the party reached the summit of the tree. Two very regal-looking and slightly luminous elves whom Debbie recognized as Galadriel and Celeborn were waiting there. Debbie dropped her best attempt at a curtsey. "Nice to meet you," she said cheerfully.

Galadriel smiled benevolently. "Debbie. You have traveled far, and you must be weary."

"I am," Debbie admitted. "But not because of the travel. Lord Elrond--"

"Er, yes, I'm sure you'd like to freshen up," said Elrond hurriedly.

Galadriel glanced knowingly sideways at Elrond and Debbie suddenly remembered that Elrond's wife was Galadriel's daughter. "Oh don't worry, Galadriel, he still loves your daughter. But she's been gone for a long time, and, well, every guy needs to blow off steam once in a while, you know?"

Celeborn looked oddly hopeful at this statement but was quelled by a sidelong glance from his wife. "Not *every* guy," said the voice in Debbie's head.

Galadriel then gestured toward a knot of three male elves who stood to one side. Two were blond and bore a strong family resemblance to Haldir, while the third was red-haired. "These Guardians of the Wood will see that you have...all that you require," Galadriel said with a smile. "Haldir you have already met. May I present Orophin, Rúmil, and Amanthon." Each of the elves bowed in turn. Debbie smiled at them and allowed them to lead her away.

As she left, she heard Galadriel's voice: "Now, Elrond, we have many things to discuss. The current military situation of course, but let's begin with your daughter...."

*******

Time in Lothlórien is very difficult to measure. It would have been hard to say how many hours passed before Debbie found herself at leisure again. The Golden Wood was blanketed in a silvery predawn twilight as she wandered through the clearings at the base of the great trees, having left her escorts resting peacefully in a heap on one of the lower flets.

Eventually she came to a clearing with a high stone basin in the center. "Must be the Mirror," she thought to herself as she walked over to it. There was a stone step at the side which Debbie used to lift herself high enough to look in. She inspected her own reflection and smiled. "Hmm, I kind of like the mussed look on me," she said aloud. "Mallorn leaves in the hair are really pretty."

A low voice behind Debbie made her jump and turn away. "Would you look into the Mirror?" Galadriel asked.

"I just did," Debbie said. "Sorry."

Galadriel gave her a knowing smile. "No...I mean would you...*look* into the Mirror?"

"Ohhhhh, you mean like Frodo did? Sure, why not?"

When the Mirror was filled with fresh water, the image on its surface changed. A series of strange visions appeared...

Debbie saw herself in a stone-walled room, wearing a long white dress that was rather too tight in the bust and laughing with a golden-haired woman who seemed to be wearing a set of sheer white baby doll lingerie. A pair of swords leaned against the wall behind them.

She saw herself, wearing capris and what she recognized as a hobbit shirt, entering a deserted campsite. Her shadow self looked around and called out--silently in the image, but clearly--for Frodo, Sam, and Sméagol. She picked up Frodo's coat from the ground, then bent down as if searching for a trail.

The image swirled and dissolved into another picture. At first, Debbie could not make out what was happening. "Oh, that's me in the red lace thing...What am I *doing* with that tree?" she asked aloud as she gazed at the surface of the water. "And wait...there's Merry and Pippin...and other trees...Oh, I guess they're Ents." Then her eyebrows climbed upward in an expression that even Elrond would have been proud to duplicate. "Wow. Those Ents give a whole new meaning to 'morning wood', don't they?"

But the vision was not yet over. Debbie next saw three of her selves--one clad in white, one in red, and one in purple--clustered around a very familiar figure. And then the Mirror went dark.

"I know what it is you saw," said Galadriel solemnly. "You are a very, very brave woman, Debbie."

*******

After leaving Galadriel, Debbie wandered deeper into the Golden Wood, admiring the twinkling lights in the trees.  "Just like the Christmas displays back home," she said to herself.  She was so intent on looking up at the effect that she did not notice when a dignified, silver-robed Elf stepped out in front of her.  She gave a shriek as she bumped into him.

"Celeborn!" Debbie cried when she had recovered.  "Sorry, I didn't see you there."

"I need to blow off steam," he said simply.

Debbie considered.  "Well, I guess what Galadriel doesn't know won't hurt her."

"Oh, she'll know," the Lord of Lothlórien replied.  "But it'll be worth it."

*******

Dawn was breaking by the time Debbie returned to the flet where she had left the other elves. Although she knew that elves did not generally sleep--at least, not without the help of miruvor--their glassy-eyed looks told her that they were spent and oblivious to their surroundings. She crept over to Haldir, pulled a mallorn leaf from her hair, and tickled his nose with it lightly.

"Haldir!" she whispered loudly. "We need to talk..."

He blinked and focused on her face. "Again?"

"*Talk*, Haldir."

"Oh. Right."

"Listen, I just looked in Galadriel's Mirror, and that reminded me of something. There's a battle coming up and Galadriel's going to send some troops. I want to show you something." She crawled over to where her computer bag lay, retrieved the Crystal Window, and inserted a silvery disc. "It's a *really* good thing I had The Two Towers DVD with me," she said as she clicked a few buttons. "This may be a bit upsetting for you, but they say a picture's worth a thousand words."

Haldir's eyes grew very large and round as he looked at the screen. "That red cape is *so* not me," he said. "I see what you mean by upsetting."

"Um, that wasn't it. Keep watching."

Haldir sat in complete silence through the rest of the scene. When it was over, Debbie waved a hand in front of his face. "Haldir?"

"I...I...I have to die in the arms of...Aragorn? He's filthy enough when he *hasn't* been fighting orcs."

Debbie nodded solemnly. "So you see, you mustn't volunteer to go. You must let me take your place."

Haldir grabbed her hands. "But...then you'll die."

"No, I don't think I will."

The Marchwarden sat back against the tree, still looking a little shaken. "I can't believe it..." he said, half to himself. "Aragorn. Dirt. Blood. This was not the ending I had envisioned for myself."

"Haldir, snap out of it! It's not going to happen now, so you don't have to worry about it!"

He looked slightly affronted. "Still, seeing one's own death is rather traumatic." He quirked his eyebrow again. "I think I might need...comforting."

Debbie smiled.

NEXT CHAPTER: Debbie "comforts" Legolas, and Aragorn receives a revelation...or three. Legolas fans, this one's for you!

******* ******* *******

AUTHOR'S NOTES: "Amanthon" is the elf who shows off his ears in the "Passage to Middle-Earth" special. There's a fan page for him at http://www.theargonath.cc/amanthon/


Chapter 14 - Strangers in the Night (EXTENDED)

"Then I shall die as one of them!" Aragorn's words still rang clearly in Legolas' mind as the Elf ran through the halls of Helm's Deep. That the Ranger had been fool enough to slip back into Westron so that all could hear him was nearly as disturbing as the fact that he was probably prophetic. Much as he trusted the Lady Debbie the White's skills, Legolas had this sinking suspicion that they were all about to die.

He opened the door to Lady Debbie's chamber, half-expecting to see it filled with Rohirric warriors or maybe Gimli. But thankfully, Debbie was alone, brushing her beautiful long chestnut hair.

"Oh--hello, Legolas!" she said cheerily.

"We're all going to die." The Elf didn't feel like mincing words today.

"Have you been hanging around Théoden again?" she asked, worried.

"No--Aragorn." Legolas sank into a chair and propped his cheek disconsolately on his fist.

"It's contagious, I guess," Debbie mused. "All the men seem to think we stand no chance. But I know we're going to win."

"How can you be so sure?" Legolas asked.

Debbie stood and walked to him, settling herself in his lap. "I already know the whole story, remember? Besides, I'm sure Gandalf will come back with Eomer and the others. And I have this other feeling...something highly unusual is going to happen."

"But when?" cried Legolas. He looked up at her with troubled sapphire-blue eyes. "And how do we know it will happen soon enough?"

"Tonight, I think," Debbie answered. "And if you're that worried, I can think of a way we could make the time fly in the meanwhile." She gently tweaked the tip of one of his pointed ears.

Legolas felt the weight lift from his heart. Or, maybe it was something else lifting--but it didn't matter. All he knew was that everything would turn out all right.

*******

Aragorn and Théoden stood on the rampart, surveying the scene of the upcoming battle. Aragorn thought the King of Rohan looked rather confident. He secretly wished he could share that sentiment. They were all going to die.

Just then, the clarion sound of a horn, deep and sweet, broke the silence. Aragorn squinted against the darkness, struggling to see if it was friend or foe who approached. The horn sounded again, nearer.

Legolas burst from a tower door, wearing only a sheet, held tightly to his middle. "That is no orc horn!" he announced.

"I told you so," said Debbie, who'd at least had the courtesy to throw on Gandalf's cloak before she came parading out in front of everyone.

Aragorn looked below, to see column after column of Elven warriors, led by a solitary figure in a very purple hooded cloak. "The Elves have come!" he said, almost in disbelief.

"Well, open the gates!" Théoden called.

The Elven army marched in, and its cloaked leader climbed the stairs with a grace that seemed very familiar to the Ranger. The leader stood before him, and threw back the cloak's hood.

"Lady Debbie?" Aragorn was now thoroughly confused. He looked behind him, to make certain the other Debbie was still there. She was busy playfully tugging the sheet away from a very embarrassed Legolas. He turned back to the new Debbie and smiled. "You are most welcome here!" he cried, embracing her.

*******

Aragorn sat at one end of a long table, his elbows resting on its surface. An Evenstar pendant swung from the index finger of each hand, and he was looking from one to the other in utter consternation.

"Whatcha doing, Aragorn?"

He looked up to see Debbie the Purple, still wrapped in her cloak. She continued, "Shouldn't you be planning the battle or something?"

"I am. I was. But something keeps troubling me." He shook the pendants lightly. "When I came to Helm's Deep with Debbie the White, Legolas handed me this one." He held forth the pendant in his right hand. "I thought I'd lost it, you see? But yesterday, I reached into my coat pocket, and I found this one." He gestured with the left hand. "So if this one--" Left hand. "--is mine, where did this one--" Right hand. "--come from?"

Debbie removed her cloak and spread it on the bench to sit. Around her neck there gleamed an Evenstar pendant.

Aragorn blinked. "And...and how did *you* get one?"

"How do you think I got it?" Debbie asked incredulously. 

"You mean...you're betrothed to Arwen too?"  Aragorn frowned.

Debbie giggled, slapping the Man lightly on the back.  "No, silly!  Think...."

Aragorn's puzzlement melted quickly into indignation.  "You didn't?!"

Debbie simply giggled again, and winked.  "Didn't you notice that most of the elves in Rivendell and half of Lothlórien have them, too?"

Aragorn dropped both pendants and buried his face in his hands. Through his fingers, he muttered, "But I never...but she...So I suppose that's how Legolas had one?"

As if on cue, Debbie the White and the Prince of Mirkwood emerged, giggling, from a side door.

Aragorn stood and roared at the Elf. "How dare you?! It's enough that you had to sleep with her, but you're supposed to be my friend, and you never even told me."

"Debbie?" stammered Legolas, confused. "I thought everyone knew we were all sharing Debbie."

"Not Debbie, you git! Arwen!" Aragorn screamed. He pointed to the two Evenstars lying side by side on the table.

"It was a one-night stand and it was two thousand years before you were born! I didn't think it was important! I figured you'd be crushed at losing your Evenstar, since you were so hung up on Arwen, so I gave you mine. Of course, you did come back in the arms of Lady Debbie, so maybe I shouldn't have bothered. Anyway, now that you've found your necklace, can I have mine back, please?" The Elf held forth his hand. Aragorn ignored it.

"Aragorn," Debbie the Purple began delicately. "There's something you should know about Arwen. She loves you--she really does. But she also enjoys having fun...just as much as you do. Do you think you're the only one who can cheat?"

Aragorn flushed beneath his stubble and lowered his eyes. "That's different."

"Actually, it's not," Debbie the White piped in.

Aragorn sighed. "But Debbie...your Evenstar...you could have told me."

"It was with Glorfindel, too, if that helps," Debbie the Purple offered.

"It most certainly doesn't," moaned the future King of Men.

Legolas shook his head. "You can see the evidence of what happened to the hobbits from miles away, but you can't see that your girlfriend is sleeping around?! And you call yourself a Ranger."

Aragorn glared. "That didn't help either."

Just then, another door sprang open and Éowyn strode into the room, wearing Debbie's altered sheer white baby doll ensemble. She took a deep breath. "Aragorn, I wish to sleep with you this night."

The Ranger's jaw dropped nearly to the table. After several seconds of stunned silence, he managed a "You look very fetching, Éowyn." Aragorn's gaze went from Éowyn's finely clad form to the Evenstars on the table. "All right, I think I will."

The Shieldmaiden positively beamed. "Lady Debbie has agreed to help us, as I have little experience in these matters. I hope you don't mind."

"Which...Lady Debbie?"

"I did!" both Debbies called in unison. They then broke out into identical giggles.

Aragorn shook his head. "Now let me get this straight. You want me to sleep with you--" Éowyn nodded. "--and her--" He pointed to Debbie the Purple, who gave a little wave. "--and her?" He gestured to Debbie the White, who clapped her hands. "All together? Have I got that right?"

"Yes," Éowyn said emphatically.

"Okay then, let's get started!" Aragorn agreed, his mood suddenly much improved. He, Éowyn, and the Debbies made their way, arm in arm, through a side door.

Legolas scooped up the Evenstars from the table and stuffed them into his pocket as he dashed after the departing group. "Can I come too?" he called hopefully.

NEXT CHAPTER: Debbie the Black meets Faramir!

******* ******* *******

AUTHOR'S NOTES: Why did we make Arwen so promiscuous? Basically, because she usually ends up in fanfiction being endlessly forgiving of Aragorn's indiscretions. We thought she deserved to have a little fun of her own.


Chapter 15 - A Stranger Among Rangers

Debbie the Black stood beside a beautiful pool at the base of a waterfall. The rushing water sparkled in the moonlight, making the scene look truly idyllic. Over one shoulder she carried Frodo's jacket and pack, which had been left behind at the campsite.

Debbie had instantly guessed where the hobbits and Sméagol had gone after she found the site deserted, and she had set out in pursuit directly after eating Sam's rabbit stew. "No sense in letting it go to waste," she had thought, knowing that her friends were in no immediate danger. "Kind of a shame I missed the Rangers of Ithilien, though. I'll bet they were cute."

Fortunately she had learned some basic tracking skills from Aragorn on her first visit to Middle-Earth (there had been some...interesting games of Hide and Seek in the woods by Amon Hen), and she was able to put them to good use. Her feet were rather sore from all the walking, though. She dipped a toe experimentally into the moonlit pool. It felt wonderfully cool to her touch.

"Oh well, I guess the others will be okay for a little while longer," she said to herself as she put down her burdens and stripped off her clothing. She walked back to the edge of the pool, wearing nothing but a curtain of chestnut hair, and prepared to wade in.

Suddenly Debbie felt an arm wrap tightly around her neck from behind and a knife point pressing lightly against her kidney. A low, smooth male voice murmured in her ear, "To enter the Forbidden Pool bears the penalty of death."

Debbie remained calm. "Captain Faramir, I presume?"

There was a short pause. "Er--yes."

"I just have one question for you: What color is your hair?"

Another, longer pause. "I beg your pardon?"

"Is it black?"

"Er--no."

"Oh, movie version. Right."

Debbie suddenly grabbed the man's arm and twisted in his grasp. There was a brief scuffle, a shrill cry of "Hikeeba!" and a loud splash. A second later, Debbie was standing over the very surprised-looking Captain of Gondor, who lay flat on his back in the shallow water, and pointing the knife at his throat. She looked him over and grinned. "What's this? A Ranger caught off his guard?"

"Who...who are you?" he stammered, his eyes narrowing.

"I'm here for the hobbits."

"Hobbits?"

"You know. Two guys about so high. And a little creepy thing."

"Oh, the orc spies."

Debbie sighed an exasperated sigh. "They're not orc spies."

"Well, I'm assuming they're orc spies until they tell me something. Two of them keep asking for someone named 'Debbie' and the third just keeps raving about 'the Precious.'"

Debbie noticed that the Captain's eyes were straying lower than her face. Keeping the knife pointed at his throat, she grabbed the Ring with her other hand and held it out at him.

"See this?" she said. "It's the One Ring, and I'm planning on throwing it into Mount Doom. It's big, bad, and evil if anyone except me carries it, or that's what they tell me anyway. You can't do anything useful with it, it attracts nazgul, and it doesn't even make good jewelry. Got that?"

Faramir blinked. "You have a Ring? I didn't notice."

"Oh," said Debbie with a pleased expression. "Anyway, you don't want it, do you?"

"Certainly not. Why would I want a thing like that?" He cocked an eyebrow. "I can see much more...attractive things right in front of me."

Debbie grinned. "Good boy." She lowered the knife and held out her hand to help him up.

"Thank you." Faramir began wringing water out of his sodden cloak. "Do you suppose you could teach me that move you just used?"

"That and a whole lot more," Debbie replied with a wink. "That was just a basic judo flip. I'm surprised you fell for it. I thought Rangers were supposed to have quick reflexes and stuff!"

Faramir looked hurt. "Well, I'm sorry! It's been a bad week, with my father yelling at me and my brother dying and all...."

"You mean Boromir? He's fine."

Faramir shook his head sadly. "I saw him floating down the river, lying in a boat."

"Well," said Debbie reasonably, "did you check to see if he was still breathing?"

"Er--no."

Debbie rolled her eyes. "And I thought you were supposed to be the *smart* one. Look, I was with him at Amon Hen and I can personally testify that he got out without a scratch." Her face grew dreamy at the memory. "Well, maybe a few scratches to his back from my nails, but I'm sure they healed up just fine. Anyway, he was probably just having a nap."

Faramir's face brightened immeasurably. "Truly? That is wonderful news indeed! Thank you so much, Lady...?"

"Debbie." 

His mouth fell open. "*You* are the one the hobbits have been speaking of? I can see now that they must be telling the truth. You are far too beautiful and good to be an orc spy."

"So you'll let us go? Me and the others? You won't drag us off to Osgiliath or anything like that?"

"No, no, of course not. But let me invite you to be my guests for tonight. My men and I will see that you have food and shelter and anything else you require."

Debbie stepped closer. "Well, what I require just now is a bath. And someone to...wash my back." She reached up and twisted one of his red-gold curls around her finger.

The captain smiled and bowed slightly. "Just excuse me for a moment, and then I will be at your service."

He turned and ran easily up the cliff stair to the overhead path. Debbie heard him calling into the cave: "Men! You can let the orc spies out of the wine cellar. And anyone who so much as *looks* at the Forbidden Pool tonight is under penalty of death, do you hear me?"

A moment later he was back at Debbie's side, beginning to unbuckle his leather breastplate. "The water's lovely this time of year," he said with a mischievous grin.

*******

The sun was well over the horizon when Faramir led Debbie, now dressed in her black silk teddy, up the cliff stair into the cave of Henneth Annun. If any of the Rangers noticed that both their captain and the new arrival had damp hair and slightly wrinkled fingers, they were far too polite to say anything.

As Debbie stepped through the entrance, three small figures ran toward her with cries of gladness. She dropped down on one knee to embrace Frodo and Sam, and gave a warm smile to Gollum. However, he turned his back on her in a fit of pique.

"What's with him?" she whispered to Frodo as she stood up.

Frodo shrugged. "I don't know, Lady Debbie. He seemed fine until you walked in just now."

Faramir, who had been conferring with some of his men, now returned with three Rangers in tow. "Alas, Lady Debbie, I must see to some camp business now," he said regretfully, kissing her hand. "But I will come and see you off when you leave. In the meantime--" He indicated the three men behind him. "These are Mablung, Damrod, and Anborn, three of my best men. Would you be so good as to teach them that move you taught me earlier?"

Debbie grinned. "You mean the--?" She made a complicated gesture.

Faramir turned pink. "I meant the judo flip."

"Oh, *that*! Sure." Suddenly Debbie's brow furrowed. "Wait a minute...aren't you guys book-only?" She looked in puzzlement from the three dark-haired Gondorians to their strawberry-blond captain. All four men gave her blank looks, and she shrugged. "Oh well, never mind! Follow me, boys."

"What was that other move you mentioned?" asked Damrod as the Rangers and Debbie made their way to a secluded portion of the cave hideout.

"I'll show you that too, if we have time. Although it really works better in water..."

Frodo, Sam, and Gollum watched Debbie retreat. "She's an amazin' woman, Miss Debbie," remarked Sam.

"She is indeed," Frodo agreed fervently.

"Preciousssss...Preciousss tricks us. Goes off alone with all the menses...leaves us behind," muttered Gollum sulkily.

NEXT CHAPTER: The Battle of Helm's Deep begins!

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AUTHOR'S NOTES: Rose says, "Ahhhh, I've been waiting a *long* time for this chapter!" (Yes, it's movie-Faramir...a controversial subject, we know.)


Chapter 16 - In the Eyes of a Stranger (EXTENDED)

King Théoden strode across the ramparts of Helm's Deep, with Debbie the White on his heels. She was in the midst of her promised lecture on Women's Liberation. "Where I come from, women can do any job they want to," she informed him.

"Well, it is not so in the Riddermark," he insisted, though he got the distinct impression she wasn't listening. "We need to keep our women safe."

"I used to be the model for Lara Croft, and she can fight as well as any man. Well, okay, she's a video game character, but she's still seriously cool."

"Just because a woman can fight does not mean she should be allowed to." Théoden knew it was a weak excuse, but he didn't need this creature who had captivated most of his men already to turn the heads and hearts of most of the women, too. He had forgotten how much work it took to be king.

"That makes no sense!" Debbie stamped her foot in frustration. "You know there's a really big army coming. You need every able-bodied fighter you can get. And Éowyn's really *good* with a sword."

Théoden rolled his eyes. He'd been hearing far too many rumors about Éowyn's skills with a number of things lately, and he didn't want to think about her...talents further. But then again, he thought, raising his eyebrows slightly, if she were out here, fighting beside the men, she'd have far less time to be doing anything else with them... "Perhaps your idea bears merit, Lady Debbie. But I have already sent her to the caves."

"So? You can get her out again."

"Actually, I can't. Army to lead, and all that. I am king, you know."

"Look, *I'm* a Shieldmaiden, and you're letting *me* fight. It's hardly fair to Éowyn if you make her stay out of it."

"Oh, all right! But you'll have to go get her. I need to be seen on the battlements, and all." In actuality, Théoden had no desire to listen to all of Éowyn's "I told you so" rants when she finally got her way.

Debbie jumped up and down and clapped her hands happily. "You won't regret it, your majesty! I'll run down and tell her now." She favored Théoden with her most disarming smile, then turned and dashed toward the caves to give Éowyn the good news.

*******

"So can you have that ready for me by evening?" Debbie the Purple asked the Armorer of Helm's Deep.

"I suppose so, Lady Debbie, though it may take a few more fittings...." He held the top half of her new chain mail bikini up across his outstretched hands. "...Could you come back in an hour or so?"

Debbie smiled. "Certainly. You're a dear to take the time to make this for me--I know you must be really busy, with the battle coming up and all."

"You are...compensating me well, Lady."

Debbie waved and shut the door behind her as the armorer bent to work on the other half of the bikini. "Guess I'd better go see what the others are doing," she said to herself.

The fortress keep was a scene of barely-controlled chaos as the defenders of Rohan dashed to and fro getting things ready for the expected battle. Debbie skipped along the inner wall, waving to several warriors as they gawked at her passing. 

One young man, dressed in ill-fitting armor and armed with a sword he seemed to treat as an entirely foreign object, did not wave or smile upon her approach. He didn't even notice she was there. Debbie sat down on a stone bench next to him. "Hi there."

"Hi," he answered timidly. "Do you happen to have any food?"

After fiddling around in her shoulder bag for a second, Debbie managed to find a half-eaten pack of Pep-O-Mint Life Savers. She handed it to the young man. "Here." His face lit up and he immediately popped three of them into his mouth. Debbie could not help being reminded of Merry and Pippin after a few hours without food. "What's your name?" she asked.

"Rick Cottontree," the young man responded indistinctly through his mouthful of candy as he sat down beside her.

Debbie laughed. "That sounds almost like a hobbit name."

Rick nodded. "I was raised by hobbits." Privately, Debbie thought that explained a lot. "I only discovered later that I was actually a Rohirrim. Rohir. Eorling. Whatever," he continued after swallowing the Life Savers. "And then as soon as I came back to Rohan, my village was attacked and the orcs tried to set me on fire. Several times. I want to go back to the Shire." He looked nearly ready to cry.

"Well, I'm sure you can go back as soon as this is all over." Debbie patted him on the head reassuringly. She remembered that the hobbits seemed to find that gesture comforting. 

"Do you think so? I've almost given up hope."

"There is *always* hope, Rick. Have another Life Saver."

*******

Far away in Fangorn Forest, Debbie the Red sat with her back to a gnarled old tree.  Its knobbly trunk seemed bent perfectly in the shape of a snug seat, as if it were wrapping its arms around her.  "Wow--am I tired!" she exclaimed, languidly re-tousling her already-tousled hair.

Merry and Pippin were dozing with their heads in her lap, one head on each of her knees.  Debbie looked down at them and suddenly giggled.

"What is it, Lady Debbie?" Merry asked sleepily.

"Oh, I was just thinking ... hobbits ... rabbits ... maybe the two words sound alike for a reason," she said.

A crashing of branches and a violent rustling of leaves told them that Treebeard was approaching.  The two hobbits sat up, yawning and stretching, as the giant Ent strode into the clearing.

"We have decided to march to Isengard at dusk," Treebeard announced solemnly.  "In the meantime, allow me to ... hoom ... entertain you."

"Oh, thanks, Treebeard, but well, I'm really tired right now..." Debbie began.  "I don't know if I could handle much more entertainment, honestly."

"I have composed some poetry especially for you," Treebeard continued as if he had not heard.

Debbie and the hobbits looked at each other.

"Poetry's nice," said Pippin politely.

"Nice and...restful," Merry agreed, in a fashion.

The three of them settled back against the tree trunk once more as Treebeard cleared his throat and recited sonorously:

"I think that I shall never see
A maid as fair as Our Debbie
A maid with voice sweet as a lark
Whose pouting lips press at my bark
A maid who sashays in the glade
And sleeps so soundly in my shade
A maid who, any season, wears
Some fancy lace that's barely there,
And like a robin in his best
She weareth red upon her breast.
Upon whose bosom all have lain
In intimacy with no shame.
So round so firm, so fully packed,
Lady Debbie is truly stacked!"

Debbie giggled, tossing her chestnut hair.  "Ooh, I'm flattered, Treebeard!"

"I am pleased to hear you say so, Lady Debbie.  Of course, that was only the first ... hoom ... section.  There are eighty-three more."

"Eighty--" Pippin began, but Merry reached across Debbie and punched him in the shoulder.

"Let's not upset the nice Ent who gave us the Entdraught now, eh Pip?"

"I think I'll just listen with my eyes closed," said Pippin as he snuggled up against Debbie once more.

*******

Debbie the Purple stood on the wall, surveying the Uruk-Hai army below. Behind her, Aragorn was giving orders to the elves, trying his best to be encouraging. Just a few steps away, Legolas also looked out on the scene, and between him and Debbie, Gimli hopped up and down impatiently, trying in vain to see over the wall.

"What's going on?" the dwarf growled.

"Shall I describe it to you, or shall I find you a box?" Legolas quipped.

"It isn't my fault I'm short," the dwarf complained.

"You're long where it matters," Debbie encouraged with a wink.

Gimli beamed with pride for a moment, then suddenly frowned. "I'd still like someone to tell me what in Middle-Earth is going on out there."

*******

"Thanks for letting me fight, Uncle Théoden!" Éowyn said excitedly as she slashed at the air experimentally with her sword.

Théoden rolled his eyes toward Debbie the White in an "I told you so" sort of manner, but Debbie ignored him. She examined her own sword somewhat dubiously. "It'll be different fighting with one of these," she mused.

"You'll be fine," said Éowyn. She suddenly swung her sword around in a wide arc. Théoden jumped out of the way, but Debbie parried smoothly. "You see?"

"I guess this whole swordplay thing wasn't that hard to learn after all," Debbie mused.

"And if I lose my sword in battle this night, I will try out your kar-ah-tay," Éowyn said with a smile.

"I do wish you'd wear some proper armor, Lady Debbie," King Théoden interjected.

"Don't worry," Debbie reassured the king, "I've battled orcs and Uruks wearing less." She didn't see why the king was so worked up. After all, the mini-dress she'd made from Éowyn's gown came nearly halfway to her knees. Besides, Debbie the Purple was wearing even less than she was.

Just then, the skies opened up, and it began to rain. Debbie saw Théoden looking at her with a combination of astonishment and embarrassment. "Drat!" she shouted. "Why does it always rain when I wear white?"

NEXT CHAPTER: Fighting the Battle of Helm's Deep, dwarf-tossing innuendo, and more!

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AUTHOR'S NOTES: Okay, the character of Rick may take some explanation. You know how, in the movie, Éowyn said that Saruman's forces were "burning rick, cot, and tree"? Well, some people were wondering after that who this poor guy "Rick Cottontree" was, and why he was constantly being burned. Someone else said that sounded more like a hobbit name and so poor hapless Rick was born!


Chapter 17 - The Stranger It Gets

"You hold the bow here...and then you catch the bowstring on this little notch on the arrow, see?"

Battle raged around the fortress of Helm's Deep, but there was a small oasis of calm among the Elven archers on the ramparts. The rain had slowed to a drizzle. Legolas was giving an archery lesson to Debbie the Purple while Gimli fended off the odd stray orc with his axe, loudly counting off the number of his kills.

"Like this?" Debbie held the arrow delicately with one dainty hand as she threaded it with the index finger on the other.

"No, no...here, hold still..." Legolas reached around from behind and moved her arms into the proper position, lingering at the silken touch of her skin.

Debbie rested her arms along the long, slender limbs of the Elf. "Like...this?" she purred.

"Yes, that's much...nicer," Legolas murmured as he wrapped his arms around Debbie's waist. "Now, try releasing the arrow." He nibbled lightly on her ear.

Distracted by the tickling sensation at her earlobe, Debbie accidently loosed the arrow into the Uruks below. "Oops..." she giggled. "I think I shot that guy with the big sparkly thing."

Indeed, the arrow had sailed through the crowd of chanting Uruk-Hai and felled the largest and most foul, who had been making his way toward the fortress, torch in hand.

"Ooh, good shot, Lady Debbie," Gimli cried as he severed the head from an oncoming Uruk. The body fell backward off the wall, taking a siege ladder with it. "That's another fifty for me," the Dwarf announced with satisfaction.

"That was easy!" Debbie beamed, watching the Uruks below scramble about in confusion. "Can I shoot again?" She noticed that Legolas' arms had slid quite a bit higher than her waist, but she settled in and said nothing.

"But of course you can continue, Lady Debbie," the Elf said graciously. She thought for a moment, behind the roar of battle, that she could hear him sniffing her hair.

*******

"Wow, Éowyn, you were right--this swordfighting thing really is easy once you get into the rhythm of it!"

Debbie the White strode into the great halls of Helm's Deep, arm-in-arm with the Daughter of Rohan. Both of their identical white minidresses were soaked through from the rain. (Éowyn's dress had started the night full-length, but had been forcibly altered with the help of a sword when she found it restricted her movement.)

"Yes," Éowyn agreed, smiling ear to ear, her enjoyment of the battle clear upon her face. "And your kar-aht-tay worked well when my sword was lost."

Debbie nodded solemnly. "You're getting really good with that groin kick."

Éowyn blushed. "Why thank you, Lady Debbie. I was practicing in front of Lord Aragorn the other night. For some reason he kept turning away, but he assured me I was doing well. The Uruks are taller than my practice dummy, but the adjustment was easy to make."

The two women hardly noticed that a growing crowd of soldiers trailed behind them. It was not until they reached Théoden at the hall's far entrance that the throng was made apparent, when the King bellowed: "Éowyn, for the love of Rohan, put on some armor!"

Éowyn pouted. "But Uncle, Lady Debbie and I have come from fighting off hordes of Uruks, and we have had no need for further armament than this!"

"And what of the hordes behind you? In my very hall?" the King wailed.

Éowyn and Debbie turned to face the crowd of men and boys behind them. At once, every soldier began professing his love for them both.

"Uh oh," said Debbie quietly.

Éowyn squeaked in alarm and edged behind Debbie. "This is most gratifying, but...so many at once?" she whispered.

"I'll keep them occupied. You go change," Debbie whispered back.

Éowyn sidled past, heading toward the door to the armory. Then suddenly she stopped, strode with a determined air toward a particularly handsome young soldier, grabbed him by the ears, and kissed him thoroughly. Grinning broadly, she skipped through the door; meanwhile, the dazed soldier was immediately surrounded by his confederates, who whooped and pounded his back in congratulation.

King Théoden moaned, audible even over the clamoring soldiers. He started reciting what sounded like poetry: "Oh, where is that girl and her armor....? Where is the horn that was blowing?"

"I think the Elves have it," Debbie said helpfully.

"Lost is the innocent maiden," Théoden continued, apparently not hearing her. He sat heavily down and dropped his head into his hands. "How did it come to this?"

"Um...we're winning?" Debbie offered. She thought Théoden mumbled something, but it was hard to tell over the general din. "King Théoden!" she all but shouted, "You mustn't give up hope!"

Théoden thrashed his head from side to side, groaning all the while. Finally, Debbie did the only thing left for her to do: she took the King's head in both of her hands, and kissed him long and deeply.

When he could breathe again, Théoden was a new man. "For Debbie and Glory!" he shouted, stumbling to his feet. "For...for Glorious Debbie!" he yelled even louder, struggling to unsheathe his sword. Finally, he gave up on the weapon, grabbing Debbie about the waist and throwing her back. "Oh, hell, just for Debbie!" he yelled, and kissed her passionately.

The assembled soldiers applauded heartily. Théoden released Debbie, raised his fist in the air, and charged out of the hall with a triumphant roar. Behind him, his men gave a loud and hearty cheer, then rushed out after him into the battle, their spirits renewed.

*******

The archers of Lothlórien continued to release round after round of white-feathered arrows into the mass of orcs below. Debbie the Purple had rapidly reached the point where even her devoted teacher Legolas had to admit that her form needed no further correction. Then again, he'd always considered her form perfect, but her shooting had caught up with that perfection as well. He now stood beside her, using his twin long-bladed knives to fend off those orcs that managed to scale the walls.

"Where's Aragorn, anyway?" Debbie called over the din of the battle. "I thought he was only leaving me in charge here for a few minutes...." Not that the Galadhrim needed much directing; "aim at the orcs" was all they needed to know.

"I cannot see him!" Gimli shouted--though from where he was standing, his eyes just below the wall, he probably couldn't see much of anything.

"I saw him on the ground a little while ago." Legolas gestured with his knife. "By the entrance to the keep."

"There!" Debbie pointed, gesturing with the bow and accidentally loosing another arrow. She skewered two Uruks at once, but hardly noticed.

Legolas could just make out the Ranger, battling on the grand stone stairs that led to the keep. And then the great doors swung wide, and out poured Théoden and the best of the soldiers of Rohan, into the fray.

Debbie shuddered sympathetically as the charge swept the future King of Men aside. "Ooh, poor Aragorn. Falling off that walkway has *got* to hurt."

"He fell?! Poor laddie--he'll need a Dwarf's help now!" Gimli shouted, charging off.

Legolas turned to protest at the Dwarf's sudden absence, but found that Debbie was concentrating, lining up a shot. "What?" he asked.

"A friend of mine is out there, and it looks like he needs some help," she replied, her voice as steady as her hand.

Legolas followed her line of sight to the field below and spotted a most inept-looking Rohirric soldier poking at a fallen orc with his sword as if to satisfy himself that it was actually dead. An enormous Uruk-Hai stood behind the young man, raising a huge sword as if to cleave the soldier's head in two.

"Rick! Behind you!" Debbie muttered urgently. Though it was impossible he'd actually heard her, the young man looked up and, spotting Debbie on the battlements, waved cheerfully. In the same instant, she loosed her arrow, hitting the Uruk squarely between the eyes. It pitched over backward without a sound as Rick, oblivious, continued to beam up at her.

"That boy is lucky to know you, Lady Debbie," Legolas said with a low whistle. "Very lucky, indeed."

*******

Aragorn panted hard, having finally nearly regained his position after his rather undignified fall from the keep's walkway. Only one small leap across, and he'd be back in the thick of the battle, where he belonged. Suddenly, the wind was knocked out of him as he was corraled around the knees from behind.

"What foul trick is this?!" he shouted, trying in vain to catch a glimpse of his new assailant.

"Laddie, you're safe!"

"Gimli?" Aragorn continued to wiggle, trying to loose himself from the Dwarf's iron grip.

"We were afraid you'd perished!" Gimli let go long enough for Aragorn to turn around.

"No, no--I'm fine," the future King of Men assured him.

Suddenly, Gimli got what the Ranger thought was an altogether unsettling look in his eyes. "Toss me," he whispered hoarsely.

"You mean, throw you over there?" Aragorn asked. "I was just headed that way myself, and--"

"No, *toss* me!" the Dwarf repeated, demanding.

Realization dawned on Aragorn's mental horizon, and he took an unconscious step backward as he hissed, "What, here? There's a battle on, in case you haven't noticed."

"You've got to toss me!" Gimli cried. "I've caught your scent, Laddie, and that and the tide of battle have made it nigh impossible for me to wait!" He hugged the Ranger about the knees again, his face in a position that left the man both uncomfortable and strangely titillated.

"Um...."

"You cannot deny it!" the Dwarf continued. "Ever since Fangorn, I cannot forget--don't lie to yourself! You feel it, too."

Aragorn found that struggling against the Dwarf's hold intensified the situation, though for the better or the worse, he couldn't be certain. Finally, he surrendered. "All right...but I'm gonna need some beer."

"This is no time for drinking, Laddie!" Gimli shouted, using the force of his stout body to buckle the Ranger's knees. Suddenly, Aragorn found himself supine, and face to face with a very amorous Gimli. The Dwarf kissed him squarely on the lips, and the Ranger only made the situation more interesting by opening his mouth to protest just as the smooch was landed.

Aragorn felt it before he saw it--a cold, sharp point of metal against the skin of his neck. He pulled back to see the tip of an Evenstar pendant poking through the Dwarf's grizzled beard.

"By the Valar, not you too!" the Ranger shouted, pushing Gimli away. "Is there anyone in Middle-Earth my betrothed *hasn't* slept with?"

Gimli stood, hastily pushing the Evenstar under his beard.

Aragorn continued his ranting. "And you didn't even *know* her until Rivendell! How?! How did you manage it?! I was with her the entire time!"

"Not the entire time," Gimli replied smugly. "*You* have to sleep, you know. Elves don't."

Just then, the door behind them flew open and Debbie the White marched out, an armored Éowyn in tow. "Fearless Leader," she called to the Ranger as he lay on the stone. "Why were you kissing Gimli? I thought you said back near Amon Hen that the whole guy-kissing thing was only out of desperation."

"You saw?" Aragorn asked, aghast. "And Éowyn, too?"

"And everyone left in the keep, and those guys over there who are pointing up here and laughing, and--" Suddenly, Debbie shouted, "Duck!"

Aragorn thought it was a little silly for him to duck when he was already lying on the ground, but he closed his eyes anyway. When he opened them again, a huge Uruk lay dead to his left, its eyes puckered where it had taken a full-on dose of pepper spray.

"Don't you think you should get up now?" Debbie asked him, tapping her foot.

"No." Aragorn sighed. "I think I might just lie here a while and wait for the next passing Uruk-Hai to finish me off."

NEXT CHAPTER: Debbie the Red reaches Isengard!

******* ******* *******

AUTHOR'S NOTE:  Be sure to check out the Extended version of chapter 5!  It is now approximately twice as long as it used to be and features a couple of major new scenes.  Nazgul flyovers, first aid, and Frodo-angst!


Chapter 18 - Stranger Than Fiction

Things were much quieter at the Tower of Orthanc since that noisy army had marched off to Helm's Deep, and Saruman the White was taking advantage of the opportunity to catch up on his reading.

His assistant, Gríma Wormtongue, had arrived some days ago with a tale of being kicked out of Edoras and an entirely new wardrobe which seemed to consist mainly of tight black pants worn without a shirt.  He'd said something about a new name as well, but Saruman hadn't paid much attention.  Gríma spent most of his time these days practicing brooding poses in front of a mirror, but this pursuit was at least quiet enough not to disturb the wizard's research.

Saruman was immersed in "A Guide to Royal Heirlooms of Middle-Earth" when an almighty banging and crashing outside broke his concentration.  "So, my uruk-hai have returned already," he murmured with a pleased expression as he walked over to his window and looked out.

The sight which met his eyes was something he did not expect.  Saruman's pleased expression turned very quickly to a rather less-than-pleased one.

There had been no greenery around his tower for several months now, yet the ground below seemed covered with trees, all shaking violently as if in a high wind.  The "trees" also seemed to have arms and legs, and they were making short work of the few orcs that had stayed behind from the march to Helm's Deep.

Among the writhing branches he saw two hobbits, who were helping out by flinging stones at the orcs, and a flash of red....Saruman gasped as his eyes fixed upon the vision in scarlet lace riding on one of the lowest branches of the Ent which seemed to be leading the attack.  The wizard watched, entranced, as she kicked a passing orc in the eye with her high-heeled shoe and then sprayed another one with a small white canister.

The woman cupped one hand to her mouth and shouted to the Ent on whose shoulders she rode, "Treebeard, I have an idea!  Break the dam and release the river!"

"An excellent plan, Lady Debbie!  Boo-ra-room!"

Saruman turned from the window to his assistant, who appeared to be too intent on his reflection to notice the commotion outside.  Gríma was trying out a new pose:  left hand on hip, right hand on left shoulder, head turned to the left with an expression somewhere between a glower and a pout.  He hadn't quite got the expression right yet.

"Come here, Gríma, and tell me if you know this ravishing creature," Saruman commanded.

"It's Rigli, I tell you. Rigli Studtongue," the former royal counselor responded petulantly.

Saruman rolled his eyes.  "That *is* the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard," he muttered under his breath.

*******

At Helm's Deep, the rainclouds had finally cleared with the dawn.  The last of the orcs had been routed and the Elven archers had already begun their march back to Lothlórien.  On the walkway to the fortress, Legolas was searching for spent arrows to replenish his quiver when Gimli strode up, his axe slung over his shoulder and a smug expression on his face.

"Ninety-two," the Dwarf announced gleefully.

"Ninety-two what?" said Legolas absently.

"Orcs, of course.  I killed forty-two of them in the battle, plus fifty on the ladder.  I very much doubt a pointy-eared Elven princeling such as yourself can equal that number."

Legolas sniffed.  "If I'd been aware that we were having a competition, I would have kept better track.  You'll have to let me know when you plan to challenge me, so that I can crush you properly."

Just then Aragorn wandered up, wearing a disconsolate expression.  "Ninety-three," he groaned.

Gimli's eyes bulged.  "You killed ninety-three orcs?"

"Orcs?" said Aragorn blankly.  "No, Evenstars.  I counted ninety-three of them on those Elves."

Legolas patted Aragorn sympathetically on the shoulder.  "Did you count mine too?" he asked brightly.

The door to the keep opened, and Debbie the Purple exited.  Now that the battle was over, she had exchanged her chainmail bikini for the purple cloak and Elrond's dressing gown.  "Hi everybody!"  she said cheerily.  "Have you seen Rick?  I've got a date with him later."

"You wouldn't rather celebrate with me, Lady Debbie?" asked Gimli.  "After all, I'm the winner of the orc-killing contest.  I completely outclassed the Elf."

Legolas shook his head sadly.  "One too many blows to the head," he murmured.

"Wow, that's very impressive, Gimli," said Debbie graciously.  "I lost count around a hundred and fifty, myself.  And I think Aragorn killed ninety-three...."

"He wasn't talking about orcs," said Legolas.

"Mine should have been bigger than the others," Aragorn muttered to himself.  Debbie raised an eyebrow, and he explained:  "My Evenstar.  It definitely should have been more impressive than everybody else's.  I *am* the king, after all."

"Evenstar envy," mused Debbie.  "I wonder what my Home Psychoanalysis CD-ROM would say about *that.*"

At that moment Éowyn strolled out of the keep, accompanied by Théoden and Debbie the White.  Théoden's arm was around Debbie's waist and his face wore a more carefree expression than it had done in many days.  "Isn't it a beautiful day?" he asked cheerily.  "Just listen to the birds!"

Everyone paused obediently to listen.

"The birds are kind of loud and cloppity," observed Debbie the White.  "In fact, they sound more like hoofbeats."  She glanced up.  "Oh look--it's Gandalf, up there on that ridge.  I completely forgot he was coming."

"Legolas, check his neck with your Elf-eyes and tell me if he's wearing an Evenstar," said Aragorn.  "No, on second thought, don't tell me.  I don't want to know."

A veritable tide of horsemen poured down the steep hill above the fortress and rode up to the walkway.  Gandalf was in the lead, followed by Éomer and the rest of his men.  They reined their horses and all looked around in confusion at the scene of carnage before them.

"We've come too late," cried Éomer in despair.  "The battle is over and we lost."  Then he looked more closely at the huge numbers of slain orcs.  "No, wait--we won.  Gandalf, I thought you said I was needed here!"

"I...I thought you were," said Gandalf, who was looking in astonishment from Debbie the White to Debbie the Purple and back again.  "Still not the red one," he murmured to himself in a disappointed tone.

Éomer dismounted and greeted his sister affectionately.  "It seems we've missed the battle entirely," he sighed, then asked hopefully, "Can I at least go beat up Gríma for you?"

Éowyn patted her brother comfortingly on the shoulder.  "He is gone.  But thank you for offering."

*******

Three small figures and one taller one moved through the forests of Ithilien, journeying ever eastward toward Mordor.  Debbie was sporting a new cloak and boots presented to her by Faramir and the Rangers.

"I wonder if we'll ever be put into songs or tales," Sam wondered thoughtfully aloud.

"Of course you will," said Debbie.  "And movies too.  I told you about that back when we first met, remember?  I can show it to you on the crystal window again if you want."

"That's all right, Lady Debbie," said Frodo, looking up at her with a trusting smile.  "If you're with us, then I know it's going to turn out all right."

"That's the spirit, Frodo!" Debbie replied cheerily.  "Just keep looking on the bright side and everything is sure to work out in the end."

Sam nodded.  "That's just the kind of thing I try to tell myself when I'm feelin' downhearted, only you put it so much better."

Debbie smiled.  "When I'm feeling downhearted, I sing!  In fact, this reminds me of a song...."

"Oh, please sing it for us, Miss Debbie!" begged Sam.

"Yes, please do!" added Frodo.

"Sing, yes, precioussss!" agreed Gollum.  They all stopped walking and the others looked at Debbie eagerly.

"I'm not really a very good singer, but okay," said Debbie with a blush.  She cleared her throat and began:

     "Oh, the sun'll come out tomorrow,
     Bet your bottom dollar that tomorrow there'll be sun
     Just thinkin' about tomorrow
     Clears away the cobwebs and the sorrow 'til there's none...."

When she had finished, all three of her listeners applauded.

"You're far too modest, Lady Debbie," said Frodo seriously.  "I think you're the best singer I've ever heard."

"Even better than the Elves," nodded Sam.   "And that's a pretty song, too.  It kind of sticks in the head, like."

Debbie took Sam's hand in her left and Frodo's in her right, and they started walking again.

Gollum hung back and watched them pull ahead.  "The preciousss should be ours," he muttered angrily.  "We kills the hobbits, and takes the precioussses once they're dead.  Both the old preciousss and the new preciousss, yes...."

Ahead of him, Debbie and the two hobbits marched on into the east, singing:

     "Tomorrow, tomorrow, I love you tomorrow,
     You're only a day away!"

******* ******* *******

AUTHOR'S NOTES:  We were trying to get all possible Mary Sue clichés into this story, so how did we miss having Debbie sing before?  Anyway, we've *just* managed to finish in time for the opening of "Return of the King"!

Will Debbie be back?  You can bet she will!  Keep watching this site for "Debbie Does The King (Among Others)"!

Also, be sure to have a look at the Extended Editions of chapters 5 and 13!


Chapter 19 - TEASER for "Debbie Does the King (Among Others)"

Hello to all our returning and first-time readers!

First, we'd like to draw your attention to the fact that chapters 14 and 16 have been expanded.  This completes the Extended Edition of "Debbie Does the Two Towers"!

Second, we'd like to announce that we have started working on the third installment of the trilogy.  We'll start posting the story soon, but in the meantime, here's a teaser!

*******

The Tower of Isengard did not receive many visitors these days, except for the orcs who until recently had come to do Saruman's bidding.  But for the second time in less than a week, a delegation had arrived to have some words with the wizard.  Gandalf was in the lead, mounted on his magnificent white horse.  Behind him were King Théoden, Aragorn, Éomer, Legolas, Gimli, Debbie the White, and Debbie the Purple.

"Now, you must watch your step around Saruman," Gandalf was saying.  "He's very crafty and very persuasive.  It's probably best to let me do the talking."

Both Debbies nodded in unison, in agreement with the wise wizard.

"Just let him get within reach of my sword, and he'll find that I can be persuasive too," growled Éomer.  He was still chafing at having missed the entire battle of Helm's Deep.

Legolas and Gimli appeared not to hear, as they were engrossed in a conversation of their own.

"I tell you, I've had them both more times than you!" the Dwarf was arguing, hrrumphing at the Elf.

"But not both at once," Legolas pointed out.  "*I* have.  And Éowyn too."

"But you were with Aragorn as well, so that cannot possibly count."

"Oh no?  I thought you *liked* Aragorn," Legolas responded coolly.

"I'd temporarily lost my head there," the Dwarf stammered.  "Fangorn, you know."

"Will you stop mentioning that?!" Aragorn snapped.  "I've been doing my best to forget it."

"Hush!" said Gandalf.  "We're getting very near the tower now."

The mounted party passed out of the shade of the trees and the horses began splashing through ever-deepening water.  As the party approached the tower, they could all clearly see that the great Isengard was but a shell of its former self.  

Perhaps more surprising than the destruction, however, was the sight of Merry and Pippin laughing and smoking high atop one of the ruined walls--and between them, another copy of the lovely Lady Debbie, dressed entirely in red lingerie.  She waved to the approaching party.  "Hi, guys!" she called out cheerily.

"I knew there was a red one!" Gandalf exclaimed, vindicated.

*******

Watch this site for "Debbie Does the King (Among Others)," coming soon!

--Gypsie Rose (gypsierose3000@yahoo.com)
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