Author's Note: And here, at long last, is the final installment. Hopefully y'all enjoy the ending to this well-that-escalated-quickly story. :)

…

The writer's mouth gaped at the thought of armed rangers storming her neighbor's apartment. Even though her roommates had no idea what the muses could want out of Estel's car, surely they could guess by Thalion's face that the request from Aragorn was not innocent. But, trying to keep her cool in front of the apartment's occupants, the writer summoned her wits. "I don't think that will be necess—"

"Quiet, peasant; do as I ask," the king snapped impatiently before realizing his setting and adding "please" to the end of the sentence. Thalion's heart was beating rapidly, and she had no idea what to do. She turned to Edennil for some sort of answer, and by the grace of the Valar, she received one. He discreetly leaned over and whispered in her ear.

"Trust 'em. They know better than to do anything really stupid."

Estel would have combatted the suggestion by pointing out that she, in fact, had far more experience with the rangers in question than Edennil did, but she knew that he was right. And Aragorn was not one to be crossed; she could see it in his fiery, Númenórean eyes. So with her mind racing to imagine all the awful things that must certainly be about to transpire, she dug her keys from her pocket and clicked the button to unlock the car.

"Please be courteous," she called out uselessly as Aragorn disappeared once again.

The writer did not dare lift her gaze to see her roommates' faces as the doors of her car opened and closed outside. She desperately hoped no one would be able to guess what the cargo was that Aragorn was so intent on recovering. She could distinctly hear the ring of swords being unsheathed as the rangers approached the neighbor's door once again, but it was thankfully not loud or distinguishable to someone who wasn't looking to hear it.

Instead of a polite knock, the relative silence was shattered by a violent pounding on the door, no doubt coming from a strong fist. Thalion clasped Edennil's hand, certain that this was the end of her sanity. Footsteps banged down the stairs as the door was opened. A shout issued forth, but it was immediately silenced. Estel prayed that it was the mere sight of the rangers that made the neighbor cease. Stern words were spoken by one who Thalion knew to the Aragorn, the nobility and ferocity of his voice giving him away. This went on only a minute or two before a soft closing of the door was heard and footsteps headed back to the front of Estel's apartment.

Thalion expected to see the two rangers enter the front door, but instead, a complete stranger stepped into the room, startling the fanfiction writer so that she let out a small gasp. The man's face was red, though Estel couldn't tell if it was from anger, fear, or embarrassment. He wore a dirty white shirt and a pair of stained, wrinkled, and torn jeans. His face needed a shave, and his brown hair was also unkempt. He was, in short, a mess—but a humbled mess, if nothing else. Aragorn, whose face was as solemn as a statue, proudly stepped in behind him, giving the man a shove from behind.

"I must apologize profusely for the irresponsibility of my apartment's occupants to you, my innocent neighbors," the man said, looking at his shoes and shifting his feet nervously. "Our selfish actions were no doubt a great disruption to your lives, and we repent wholeheartedly."

Estel had to choke back a chuckle; these were clearly not words the man had made up himself. "In the future," he continued, "we shall strive to think of others and be respectful of their property, time, and schedule. Thank you for your patience with us."

"Good," Aragorn murmured, sounding like a man who has finally made a disobedient dog sit down.

"Can I leave now?" the man tried to whisper to the ranger, though Estel could hear the desperate plea easily.

"Please do," the king of Gondor replied. "My friend will escort you home."

Faramir suddenly appeared in the doorway, nodding firmly for the man to follow him outside. The said man obliged gladly, not even turning his face to look back at the room of confused-yet-secretly-gleeful college kids.

"Thanks; goodnight!" Estel called after the neighbor when she recovered her sense, attempting to show some amount of decency. Hopefully her politeness would keep the man from phoning the cops. The man did not look up, but Thalion was pretty sure she had been heard.

The room was deathly silent as the ranger strode back inside and took up his bottle of Windex again, spraying a random spot on the wall. Faramir soon returned, and everyone noticed that any sound of a door slamming or footsteps walking had not been audible. The steward grinned innocently before moving to join his fellow.

The awkwardness which hung over the apartment was interrupted by the wonderful, hearty laugh of Edennil at Estel's side. Then, of course, Thalion had to laugh, too. The three roommates joined in, and everyone felt the tension in the room dissipate like a fog at sunrise. The rangers looked up from their fake duties in confusion, though both smiled courteously anyway.

"I think you've probably taken care of enough pests tonight," Estel said happily. "Why don't you take a break and help us study? I'll throw some taquitos in the oven, and we'll make the most of the quiet."

The rangers gladly obliged, and the evening became what Thalion would venture to call merry. Aragorn and Faramir didn't just help Estel or even Edennil; they were actually good study-buddies for everyone. The fanfiction writer couldn't help but wonder if the rangers had been stealing her textbooks just to prepare for moments like this. After all, they seemed to know more than they should about things like the supralapsarian vs. infralapsarian controversy, the heretical teachings of Friedrich Schleiermacher, and the starting lineup of the Texas Rangers (okay, the last one wasn't for homework…but it is obviously extremely important anyway).

Merriment, however, cannot last forever, especially in college. After the greasy taquitos had been consumed and the homework had been given due attention (for it is never fully completed, you understand), the rangers knew that they needed to leave the students to their tasks. They stealthily slipped a list of story ideas to Estel as she walked them to the door, fully expecting compensation for their pest control. The writer frowned as she shoved the note in her pocket with a grunt and opened the door.

"Maybe you should go smooth things over with the neighbors," she told Aragorn and Faramir quietly as they headed out to…um…somewhere. "You ought to be more…"

"Nice?" Aragorn asked, seemingly reading the writer's mind. Estel shrugged and stepped onto the sidewalk, letting the door fall closed behind her. Aragorn shook his head slowly. "If everyone who was always good was also always nice, many more injustices would exist in this world." He let out a long sigh. "But I understand your meaning, and I will take thought to it."

"There haven't been many people who were always good anyways," Estel countered, letting her theology show. "Just one."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," the king waved away the correction. "I am not attempting to give a Sunday school lesson. But I will see to the 'being nice' issue."

The writer wasn't sure exactly what that meant, but she decided not to press it any further. She waved goodbye to her muses as they wandered into the night, turning her hand to fan herself as the Florida humidity quickly penetrated her skin to agitate her soul. But just before she went back in, she heard Faramir call from behind her.

"Please don't forget to write! We muses really need an outlet every now and again!"

Estel nodded curtly, knowing internally that the poor steward's fears were all too likely to be true.

…

Thank you all so much for reading this silly little story! We'll see what I can do to put out some more content; things are just so busy. And I don't mean busy like I have a million things to do all day. I mean busy like I'm gone at work 12 hours a day and THEN I come home and do the million things that have to get done. But the muses are most certainly not dead (as this story has hopefully proven in more ways than one), so I hope to work on some other projects soon. Again, thank you so much for taking the time to read this, and if you have a moment, I'd love to hear what you thought of it!