Disclaimer: I own nothing recognisable.

Girl Problems

Boromir was woken by a scream. She rolled her eyes, groaning, but clambered to her feet, drawing her sword, ready to face whatever enemy had alerted the watcher.

Aragorn had sprung to her feet, but was putting her sword away with muttered curses. Boromir groaned: this was likely a repeat of the first night, when Pippin and Gimli had mistaken Legolas for dead, due to her race's tendency to sleep with open eyes.

Legolas, surprisingly, seemed to be the one in distress. She was standing, screaming at her bedroll as if a spider were inside it. Aragorn was sitting on a rock, trying to calm the elf down, and Boromir decided to deal with the slightly hysterical hobbits, as Merry wasn't taking this too well, supposing that something had slipped past her watch.

Gandalf, however, started chuckling, which soon turned to full-blown laughter, as the Fellowship turned to her in various degrees of surprise and hurt.

"Oh my dear Legolas," the old witch cackled, "I know you are young among your own kind, but surely you've long passed puberty?"

As Gandalf laughed, and Boromir tried to figure out what was going on, Legolas gaped at the witch, wordless. Finally, though, her voice came back to her. "There is blood in my pants, and all over my blankets! How can you think this is funny! I'm dying, I've been poisoned!"

"You're not poisoned," Aragorn interjected before Gandalf could answer. "You've got your period. You're lucky I brought spares of everything, use this," she offered a padded wad of fabric, which Legolas stared at, uncomprehending.

"We've been walking together for almost a month," Frodo said tiredly, peeking up through half-lidded eyes. She rolled back over, muttering, "and don't annoy me when I'm on my period. You'll regret it. Let me sleep, or I might bite your head off. Pippin doesn't call me Dragon Frodo for nothing."

"We all synced up," Aragorn explained, leaning against a tree, and still offering the cloth wad to Legolas. "Our hormones are all affecting each other, honey."

"But," Legolas said, before shuddering as a drip of red rolled down her pants, staining her shoe, "but there aren't even any Ellyn around, much less one I'm interested in!"

"Hormones from seven other women are stronger than your own lack of desire for a child," Gandalf cackled. "You will have to deal with this each month while we are on this journey, sweetie."

Legolas stalked over, ripping the wadded cloth from Aragorn's outstretched hand. "So I get to feel like an elleth who can't conceive until someone guts Sauron?"

"Pretty much. Now go get yourself cleaned up," Aragorn ordered. "You're an absolute mess."

"Suddenly my desire to see this quest fulfilled is even stronger," Legolas muttered, making her way across the camp, to the nearby stream.

"And you'd better do something about the blood before you attract wolves!" Gandalf called to the retreating elleth, who stiffened, turning with a feral snarl.

"Go! Now!" Aragorn barked, inciting chuckles from Gimli and Boromir, when Legolas did as she was told, turning back to the stream.

"Gandalf?" Pippin asked in an adorably high-pitched voice, "why did you say seven women? I'm not a child!"

"Oh Pip," the witch laughed, patting the little hobbit on the shoulder. "I was discounting myself. There's one advantage to an old body like mine: I don't have to worry about the moons."

Sam rolled over, grumbling, "I didn't really need to hear that - or anything, really, from that first scream. Now let me sleep. All this walking about in the night-time has me knackered."