Normally I like to portray Legolas as a realistic character with some depth to him, as you'll see in my other story (especially the fifth chapter). But my friend and I were watching the extended edition of ROTK last night, and we just couldn't resist making fun of the random, unhelpful lines Jackson assigned our hapless hero. So, here is some narcissistic, oblivious elf bashing in this series of random scenes from the movies.
This is the scene during the marshalling at the Dunharrow, when Theoden reviews the numbers of troops that have responded to his call and Legolas makes an astute observation:
All-Knowing Elf
Legolas had just hopped off of his horse and strutted away, leaving Gimli to find his own way to the ground- headfirst -, when he suddenly noticed something. Arod hadn't nudged his perfectly toned arm, looking for a sugar cube; in fact, the horse had merely stood, nervously pawing the ground, and behaved as though he never expected the generous elf to give him a treat.
Something was definitely wrong.
Legolas, perceiving this with his incredible insight, felt that it was only right for him to warn the other, less-acute beings around him of this phenomena. The first man he considered alerting sat on a pile of saddle blankets, examining his grubby fingernails. Legolas couldn't understand what was so interesting about clumps of earth (and other unsightly elements) stuck to one's fingers, but chalked the strange fascination up to the Rohirrim's obvious lack of manicure sets. Which, if true, left him with the question: what did they do at night if they didn't file their nails or re-braid their hair?
But Rohirric soldiers' habits were not of his important concern at the moment. Arod's listlessness was. Legolas gracefully approached the fighter.
"Good man, my horse is twitchy."
Scratch, inspect, satisfied grunt.
"Strong warrior, he has not asked me for a treat."
Stare, indifferent grunt.
"Good, strong, warrior-man, are you capable of speech at all?"
Scratch, dig, dismissive grunt.
Legolas regarded the man, concerned. This situation was much worse than he had originally thought; he must alert an officer. Fortunately for his delicate feet, he was saved a trip across the six foot stretch separating him from the king's tent by Eomer's well-timed arrival. While not exactly the brightest horsemaster in the stable, the third Marshal of the Mark did have his redeeming qualities.
His hair was respectfully inferior to Legolas' own, for one.
Gliding towards Eomer with impeccable posture, Legolas delivered what he personally felt was a most clever line. Not only did he address the matter of his horse, he also touched on the Rohirrim's speech impediment:
"The horses are restless…and the men are quiet."
Eomer stopped short and gazed at Legolas in a rather patronizing manner. The elf thought that, if he were not so congenial, he might be extremely insulted.
Gimli and Aragorn materialized behind the sister-son of Theoden. Legolas grinned inwardly, now there would be two more slightly intelligent peoples to interpret to this incompetent, bungling, amateurish pony-trainer exactly what he just-
"Have you hit your head, elf?"
Huh? Was that brash line directed to him?
Gimli interrupted Eomer by pointing out that he, actually, was the one who had been abandoned to land on his cranium. Legolas did not even get his well-deserved chance to retort when Eomer began ranting in italics:
"Of course the horses are restless, Legolas, they're about to be sent off involuntarily on a deadly suicide mission from which none of them might possibly come back! And the men are quiet because most of them are sleeping off their drunkenness from last night's keg party, and those who aren't are nursing hangovers fit to make Orodruin implode!"
Aragorn shook his head at Legolas, and tut-tutted: "You're supposed to know this, Legolas, you're the all-knowing elf!"
Legolas blinked. Where had he been when this keg-party took place? Why wasn't he invited?
Gimli sniggered into his greasy beard: "Because you're such a prude, we just slipped some sleeping powder into your wine." Legolas frowned at the dwarf, startled. They were reading minds now?
Chuckling, Eomer rubbed his chin. "I honestly thought that you would taste the herb, seeing as, in Aragorn's words, you're the all-knowing elf, but…I guess even elvish taste-buds have to take a break from being superior every once in a while," he snorted and clapped the stringy-haired, smelly Ranger on the back. The three of them, without even giving his lithe form one last glance, walked off like the best of chums, leaving Legolas in shock…and in a cloud of their body odor.
Was it some unspoken rule that all substandard beings prided themselves on their stench?
And why, since they had acknowledged his wisdom in all things, did he get the distinct feeling that he had been made fun of?
Legolas ran a fine-boned hand through his glistening hair. All these unanswered questions were giving him a headache. That most recent one made…what? Five? Or did his last enlightening thought extend the number to six? And what of that one? And that one?
Circular reasoning must have been a curse that Men brought with them.
Suddenly a ray of light pierced the wise- yet presently befuddled- brain of Legolas. A piece of his mother's advice to him when he was but a handsome young elfling surfaced: practicing your archery will make it better. His glorious blue/brown/purple orbs shot open.
"To the field!"
He stuck a pose for a moment, ignoring the puzzled expressions of the men around him, before quickly locating his quiver and bow. They were squashed among the saddle blankets, beneath the finger-nail-obsessed soldier. He had to shove the unresponsive man off of his seat, and give his weapons a thorough scrubbing before he was satisfied that his immune system would not have to battle any low-grade germs. Legolas then trotted off towards an open area, convinced that a light dose of practice and a heavy amount of showing up those mute Rohirrim would solve all his problems.
If anybody has a request for me to do some Legolas-bashing on a particular line, I will be happy to do so!