Note: If you thought that the story ended right there, you are wrong. I hope I do not disappoint too many of you, though I know some of you would have liked that end. :P

Chapter 5.

There was an uncomfortable silence. Lindir shifted slightly, and cleared his throat.

'Er, My Lord,' he said tentatively, 'what shall we, you know, do with the, um, to be specific... body?'

I sighed and straightened up, staring down at what once was Aragorn.

'Put it in the morgue with the rest,' I said.

'The rest?' Lindir asked anxiously. You know, I have a growing suspicion that Lindir is afraid of cadavers. Most unnatural.

'Yes; unfortunately, while I was experimenting on those Orcs, some did not survive.'

Lindir gasped. 'What did you do to them?' he asked.

'It wasn't me,' I said irritably. 'It was the trauma; you know, being taken away from home, being held prisoner by Elves, that sort of thing.' I could tell he was not convinced, and that put me in a bad mood. 'Now move along, take him to the morgue this instant.'

He began to, but Aragorn is rather heavy, and it takes more than one Elf to carry him, especially if that Elf is skinny and scrawny like my minstrel. I sighed. Where was Erestor when I needed him? I picked up the other half of the body and helped Lindir drag him in the general direction of the morgue.

We arrived at the door rather breathless, and Lindir dropped his part of Aragorn (which happened to be the head) quickly onto the floor, rubbing his wrists.
'Lindir!' I yelled, 'Look what you did! You are ruining my tile. I shall have to disinfect the whole place. Now help me get him in.'

'I don't think I want to,' admitted Lindir. 'In fact I rather think I won't.'

'Lindir,' I said, astonished, 'you have never refused to do anything I have commanded you before.'

'No, I haven't,' he agreed, 'so don't be angry at me for doing it now. Get Glorfindel to do it; he's brave. He kills Balrogs.'

'One Balrog,' I corrected. I wasn't sure whether to let Lindir get away with this breach of conduct or not. But I had to admit that dead Orcs are no pretty sight. Besides, Glorfindel was so strong he might not need my help carrying the body.

'Go and get him,' I said at last, and set my end of Aragorn down, a little more gently than he had.

Lindir took an awfully long time. I think he must have stopped for some tea and cake. Since he was taking so long I decided to do an examination of Aragorn to see what had caused his sudden demise.

I began searching him for lacerations, burns, punctures, etc., but found nothing of significance.

'It must be internal,' I said, making a mental note. I banged on his head. It sounded hollow, but then it always had.

I had a startling surprise at that moment, for Aragorn twitched. I leaped back about a yard. Then I slowly advanced again to get a closer look. Aragorn jerked again.

Just then Glorfindel and Lindir showed up. They both looked very annoyed with each other, and walked at opposite sides of the hall. But then they always did.

'Pick him up,' said Lindir to Glorfindel.

'I shall not,' he said back. 'I am not some non-Balrog-slayer, that I should take my commands from a minstrel!'

'Silence!' I said, raising a hand. 'Do not take him away yet. I'm examining him.'

'Well you could have done that when he was in the hospital room,' said Lindir, trying to look exasperated and failing miserably. Instead he looked ridiculously smug because I had told Glorfindel to shut up.

'I only just thought of it,' I admitted. 'I'm guessing Arwen will want to know the reason of his untimely demise. If I don't have a good reason for her she's sure to blame me. She always was suspicious that I kept him in the hospital just to keep them apart.'

'Well, wasn't that the reason?' asked Glorfindel. I remained discreetly silent.

'So, what have you found out so far?' asked Lindir, helpfully changing the uncomfortable subject. I decided that I would consider giving him a raise after all.
'I have found,' I said quickly, 'that he has Post Mortem Movement.'

There was a short silence.

'And what is that?' asked Glorfindel, attempting to sound casual.

'It's when the body moves after death.'

'Really? That sounds interesting,' said Elladan, who happened to appear at that moment. 'Lemme see.'

'No, son,' I said, trying to sound stern, 'this is not a sight for young eyes.' My words were cut short by gasps from the audience (which now consisted of Lindir, Glorfindel, Elladan and Elrohir) as the corpse moved.

'Doth mine eyes deceive me?' quoth Elrohir. I hate it when he does that.

Suddenly the corpse sat up. Or I should say patient. Apparently he wasn't a corpse. Anyway, the patient said quite intelligently:

'Water.'

'No water for deceased individuals,' I said.

'I'm not deceased,' he said, looking offended.

'What are you doing undeceased?' asked Elrohir. 'Don't you know that's very naughty to go about playing dead?' (he had been very severely punished for doing that several hundred years ago; I was glad to hear that he still remembered his lesson).

Suddenly Aragorn turned pale. Paler, I should say; he already looked like chalk. Now he looked like... I don't know, something whiter than chalk.

'Th-th-the...' he stuttered, pointing to the door which we had been about to enter twenty minutes ago.

'Morgue,' Elladan finished for him helpfully. 'Yes. That's right. We thought you were dead. Just think! You might have been buried alive!'

Aragorn fainted.

'Oh look, he's dead again,' said Elladan.

'Oh, shut up and help me move him back,' I said irritably. It's not exactly unembarrassing to have mistakenly thought someone dead when he was very much alive the whole time.

We got him back to the hospital bed, and a few minutes and several splashes of water later, he was awake again.

'Now Aragorn,' I said, 'tell me exactly what happened before you die- I mean, fainted.'

'I told Lindir to go get Arwen and a pastor.' He looked accusingly at the minstrel.

'What happened before that?' I asked patiently.

'I found out that I had Ischemic Heart Disease,' he said miserably.

I sighed. 'Aragorn,' I said, 'were you reading my book?'

'Yes,' he said.

'Leave us alone,' I said, making sure to glare at my two sons, who always insisted that I didn't mean them. Once everyone had left and was listening outside the door, I said to Aragorn, 'don't feel bad. The same thing happened to me when I first read it.'

He looked startled. 'What happened to you?'

'I thought I had them all,' I said. 'Every single one. But I got over it.'

'How do you know I don't have them all?' he asked nervously.

'Because it's simply impossible,' I explained. 'But I don't expect a medically uneducated individual like yourself to understand that.'

'I'm going to get medically educated,' he stated. 'I'm going to learn to cure all the illnesses that you never could.'

'Oh, don't do that!' I said, a trifle too quickly. 'I assure you that won't be necessary.'

'I will,' he insisted. Suddenly he wilted. 'You still haven't found out what's wrong with me, have you?' he asked.

'No. Not yet. Nor shall I, most likely, for a good long time,' I said firmly. 'And you are going to stay in here until I do.'

Aragorn said nothing. I turned to leave.

'Lord Elrond,' he said suddenly.

'Yes?'

He hesitated. 'What if,' he said slowly, 'I were to...'

'Well?'

'Give you...' he winced. 'Some of my pipeweed?'

I started, and began to pace the floor distractedly. 'This is bribery and corruption,' I observed.

'Yes,' he admitted.

I considered.

'Deal,' I said.

He sighed, half in relief and half in regret. 'I don't have much left,' he said sadly.

'Halves,' I said. 'Give me half.'

'Very well,' he said. 'And you'll let me out today? This instant?'

'Done.'

He jumped up to take his hasty departure.

'Aragorn,' I said. He paused. 'Did you bribe Lindir?' I asked.

'Plead the fifth,' he said, and disappeared out the door.

'I didn't know Lindir smoked,' I said thoughtfully to myself. 'Oh, well, more blackmail material...'

After this day there was a strange unofficial contest between my Lord Elrond and Aragorn. They would each try to out-do each other in every medical pursuit; in fact, sometimes they would try to treat each other's patients, which never ended well.

There was something good that came from the odd occurrence; both became such good doctors that eventually they were the best known in all of Arda. Now sick people can rest easy in Imladris, always confident that Lord Elrond will be successful in his attempts at curing them.

I, however, mean to never be put in one of his infirmaries; I can never forget the mistakes he used to make.

Perhaps some day I shall use them for blackmail.

And this is the real end. :D There we are, finally Aragorn has recovered, and at last Imladris is free of Lord Elrond's maniacal attempts at treating illnesses. (Now he makes un-maniacal ones, we presume.)