standard disclaimers apply.


good lood almighty!! sweet jesus, people, i didn't think you'd like the first chapter THAT MUCH. but i'm glad you did! THANKS FOR ALL OF YOUR REVIEWS. this has been my greatest achivement yet, and i'm proud to bring you another chapter, although i do not know if you will like it as well as the first. i know it lacks in length, but my poor ickle bwain just won't work today! but it worked long enough to give you this. enjoy!

and don't forget to check out my other stuff, as some of it is quite humourous as well. and if you REALLY want to make me happy, go read 'dusk before dawn'.


"Well? Where is the king?"

Faramir looked over at the captain of the guards and tried his best not to smile as he thought of how the rest of the council would react to an explanation of Aragorn's absence. The thought was rather amusing, and entertained him for several seconds before the captain asked again.

"The King bade me tell you that the queen was in dire need of assistance, and that he will arrive here momentarily."

Satisfied with this answer, the captain sat down and allowed Faramir to take his seat as well. Silence overtook the room as everyone waited for Aragorn's supposed arrival. As the time grew in length, Faramir grew weary of waiting. Everyone was becoming restless, and he did not want the task of interrupting the King and Queen again.

Especially if Aragorn had not left his chamber.

The door to the council room burst open and Aragorn came walking in, his step light and a smile on his face. He greeted everyone with a nod of his head and apologized for his tardiness as he took his seat next to Faramir. He did not notice any of the looks that the council members were giving him, or hear any of the mumbling and murmuring that began.

The Steward looked over at Aragorn as if he had a second head growing from his shoulders. Pursing his lips together, he nudged Aragorn in the arm, drawing his attention.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Aragorn asked in a whisper.

"Because there is a very large problem with your appearance," Faramir said, his voice mixed with amusement and shock.

Not looking down, afraid of what he might see, Aragorn answered, "What is the problem?"

"Aside from the bite marks on your neck, you seem to be wearing your wife's breeches."

Feeling the color drain from his face, Aragorn looked down to see that he had in his haste, put on a pair of Arwen's loose-fitting breeches that she wore when walking the corridors late at night, or sitting in their bedchamber in front of the fire. Apparently they had been mixed in with his own clothes in their hasty removal.

Looking at the rest of the council members, he noted that some of them were biting their lips as they tried not to laugh. There were several people who had disguised their laughing for coughing, and a few others that looked very confused by the ordeal.

"Well, next time I will most certainly be more cautious in deciding my daily attire," Aragorn said to the council as he shook his head in disbelief, looking back down at the breeches. "As this colour does not flatter me at all."


I would sing a song about how you should review, but I might hurt your ears. So save us all the trouble!!