Author's Note: I thought I would try my hand at a bit of humour to
balance the drama of my other work of fanfiction. I do not own anything
created by Tolkien's imagination etc. etc., as it is proper to mention.
Any and all criticisms are welcomed, unless they are irrelevant and
unfounded. That said, please enjoy!
Chapter One: The Wind Did Not Change .
***
The darkling night was dark, and the unshapely shapes of heavy clouds loomed heavily overhead. Somewhere in the cloak of black that hung over the lands something whimpered, and somewhere else in the darkness another something tripped noisily over something else, which cursed in a most uncouth fashion.
'Bugger it Gandalf!' came a frustrated cry. 'You can remember the incantation for growing genetically-enhanced pipeweed - but you can't even remember the spell to light your staff?! By the way, was that you Legolas?'
'No, 'twas the DWARF your feet happened to fall on.'
Yet somewhere else in the darkness yet another something appeared to have been trodden on. 'Oh, sorry, Frodo - didn't see you there,' came the sheepish apology, when alerted by a sudden inexplicable increase in the elevation of the land which could only mean that - something had been trodden on.
'I'b dot Fwodo, kydly ged off by fayz,' came the rather muffled reply. 'What?' asked the first. 'I think you're standing on his face,' came the answer of another something, and then, 'Is that you Boromir?'
'No, I am Meriadoc Brandybuck, and kindly remove your hand from my crotch area, Frodo. It's making me a tad uncomfortable.'
'EEYAH! And I'm not Frodo, I'm Pippin. Valar, Merry! You've known me since I was born, and you can't even tell who I am in the dark? I am thoroughly offended.'
'Very well, I apologise. It's rather hard to differentiate by voice considering we all caught Aragorn's Valar damned cold - well, except for Legolas, but he sounds like he's forever congested anyway. Maybe Elves have permanent sinusitis, I remember Elrond talking like that too; although maybe they're just all gay - er, Pippin, your hand - please ...'
Pippin withdrew his hand with a speed that could have outraced the blink of an eye, while in the background his indistinguishable companions chortled with childish delight. Meanwhile, low mutterings of something which may have or may not have been exerpts of incantations came from the wizard's general direction.
'How long have we been wholly consumed by this forsaken darkness?' came the unmistakable voice of Legolas Greenleaf, laced with his customary whine and a dash of that adorable something which all Elves seemed to annoyingly have.
'Er ... four hours I think,' came the answer of whom they presumed was Aragorn, but as he had just been getting over that particularly nasty cold he had contracted two weeks before and was now suffering a relapse, it might have been Gimli.
'Dammit Gandalf! Can't you just light a fire - whose hand is that?' came the loud tones of Boromir, followed by some rather uncomfortable shifting. 'Oh, sorry ... was looking for my cloak,' answered the humiliated voice of Samwise Gamgee. 'Frodo? Mr. Frodo, where are you? You haven't said naught or complained or had anyone trip on you yet.'
'I'm over here,' came the reply. 'Though I'm not quite sure where here is - would whoever is sitting beside me kindly take their fumbling hand away from my chest?'
'Sorry.'
'Boromir! Would you just try to resist the urges of the Ring? I know it's beautiful and so - very powerful and - shiny and smooth and - golden ... I'm moving away from here.' The grass crunched underfoot as someone, they assumed it was Aragorn again, got up to move, and consequentially ended up sprawled in an untidy heap on the ground, much to the horror of Merry who had chosen that spot to lie down in.
'Ha ha! I've remembered!' came Gandalf's triumphant voice. 'Luminous lighto, presto chango!'
A momentary pause -
'Ahem ... yes, well, it might have escaped your notice but - IT IS STILL VERY DARK OUT HERE!'
'Alright Pippin, no need to get in a rut,' came Frodo's voice.
'I AM BOROMIR! There is a distinct difference between a hobbit and myself!'
'Sorry, but I thought you were sitting over ... never mind - you sound funny. Have you caught Aragorn's cold again? See? I told you we should have quarantined him!'
'Well, I say we should try to sleep out the rest of the dark hours. We'll have plenty of light in the morning,' came the subdued cheerfulness of Gimli's voice, who, it appeared, seemed to have moved at least ten paces without their noticing.
'Gimli? Have you been sniffing Aragorn's athelas again?' came Legolas' voice, who had not moved at all. A wet sniffle sounded from Aragorn's direction, definately belonging to Aragorn. Legolas flinched.
'I'm over here you pansy, and no I have not,' said who they thought was Gimli obstinately. Well, since the voice carried Gimli's characteristic indignant gruffness, they had to assume it was him once again.
'But I thought I heard ... I'm too tired for this,' muttered Legolas. 'Aragorn, if you dare use the back of my shirt as a hankerchief again tonight, expect to be dead come sunrise.'
***
The grey of dawn gave way to the rosy hue of the rising sun, and the morning chorus of small birds burst out in upraising unity. Strangely enough, it was Sam who woke first to greet the sun, stretching gratefully in the light and warmth so graciously bestowed upon them by the new day after the long dark of the night.
Gimli was the next to wake: he whom was usually one of the last and had to be wrestled out of his blankets. 'Morning Sam,' he said brightly, in a manner that was very unlike that of the dwarf's, and sprang up to relieve heavy limbs of the cramping aches resulting from the awkward position he had taken to lying in - yet another strange thing.
'Morning Sam,' he called, seeing the hobbit rummaging about nearby. Sam looked up in surprise, squinting at the dwarf. 'Are you blind?' he asked.
'No. Why?'
'Because I'm not Sam - I'm Legolas. You are Gimli, I am Legolas. Must I spell it out for you?'
'Sam, did you knock yourself on the head last night? I'm not Gimli, my name is Pippin and you know me well enough to see that I am not a dwarf.'
'No, you are definately a dwarf, unless you have gone and ... oh my Valar ... '
A long moment of awkwardness ensued, in which the two screamed similtaneously and stared blankly at one another before rocketing down the slope to check their reflections in the small nearby creek, after which more screams followed.
Aragorn sat up bemusedly, scratching his tousled head. 'What's the matter with you? Sam, you scream like a girl,' he yawned. 'I am NOT Sam,' cried the hobbit. 'And I'm not Gimli' cried the dwarf, adding, 'Or Sam!' for the sake of good measure.
'Course you are, go back to sleep,' muttered Aragorn, slumping back down onto his cloak, which he had recently been sharing with Legolas due to the fact the Elf's was somewhat missing in action, having been rolled in the mud by Gimli and then deposited back in Legolas' pack.
However, shortly after falling back asleep, Aragorn snorted, scratched, farted loudly and stole the entire cloak, then resumed his snoring. Legolas woke up and snatched it back. 'Valya Aragorn! What did you eat last night?' he asked, scrunching up his dainty Elven nose in disgust. 'Elbereth, I'm moving! ... Why was I even sleeping beside you in the first place? Did I sleep-walk or something, because I swear I fell asleep over there somewhere - ' A short pause ensued, in which he groped at his neck, his face a mask of horror. Resting hands on hips, he glared and said, 'Alright, Boromir! Where's the ring?'
Pippin awoke and gave him a blank look. 'Whaddaya mean?' he asked sleepily. 'Something goes missing and you immediately blame me. You Elves are so prejudiced.' He muttered something inaudible and dropped back to the ground
'I was talking to Boromir - and I'm not an Elf.'
'I am Boromir, you idiot!' said Pippin indignantly, sitting up. 'And have you checked your reflection lately? In any case, I haven't got the ring ... is it just me or have I shrunk over night?'
'Oh my Valar ... I'm seeing myself!' cried Sam, staring at the body of Legolas who claimed he was Frodo, and then proceeded to swoon and faint, falling with a painful thud. 'You were supposed to catch me!' he then yelled, coming to with a sharp knock on the head as his skull was introduced to a stone. Gimli shrugged. 'Sorry,' he said, and then saw Pippin, and he too was lying flat on his back on the ground in three seconds. Well, it took three seconds for him to fall but two minutes for him to realise he was supposedly looking at himself. Sam rolled his eyes in exasperation and pointedly fainted again.
'What is going on here?' cried Merry, unwravelling himself from a tangle of blankets. 'Legolas? What am I doing over here?'
'I'm not Legolas, I'm Frodo.'
'What? Don't be stupid ... what is that horrible smell?'
'It was Aragorn.'
'But I am Aragorn! Can't you see?'
'No, you are Merry. Aragorn is over there.'
Merry cast his bewildered gaze over the sleeping body of Aragorn, and a number of unpleasant oaths came spouting from his mouth. At which point, the body of Frodo woke up and glared at him. 'Mr. Merry, that's not nice language to use in the morning,' he said. 'My gaffer used to say "Keep your words clean and you'll stay out of trouble."' 'But I'm NOT Merry!' shouted Merry. 'And you don't have a gaffer, Frodo!'
'Frodo?' Frodo blushed deeply. 'Mr. Merry, I think you're mistaken. I'm Sam.'
'But Sam's over - ,' Merry waved vaguely in Sam's direction with mounting confusion. 'Who's wanting me?' came Boromir's voice, and looked over at the prone from of Master Gamgee who was still passed out from severe shock. 'Was it you Sam?'
'No, I was talking to Mr. Merry,' said Frodo, pointing at the shock-faced Brandybuck quite nicely wrapped in his nest of blankets, trembling uncontrollably and with the last drop of colour drained from his face.
'I am Merry, and I was talking to Sam,' said Boromir, bemused. 'Are you feeling well Frodo? I think you might have a fever, it's addled your brains. Have you caught Aragorn's cold again like Boromir?'
'I'm Sam!' yelled Frodo, clenching his fists in an uncharacteristic rage. 'And you haven't got a cold, Boromir! Has everyone lost all sense of - sense?'
Gandalf, robed in grey and carrying his staff, came sweeping gracefully onto the chaotic scene. 'Morning all!' he smiled, waving cheerily. At once realisation dawned on them.
'GANDALF!'
***
'Well, yes, I certainly see we have a problem.'
'Damn right we have a problem!' cried Aragorn, gesturing at the Brandybuck's body in which he was now entrapped. 'Look at me! I am four feet tall and have hairy feet! How is that going to go down in the court of Gondor?'
'All hail the exalted monarch: Strider squirt, antsy Aragorn, tiny Telcontar, the heir of Isildur who needs two volumes of the Chronicles of Varda to address the people, and another two to be at head height with the page boy and climb onto his throne,' said Legolas drily, inspecting his soiled and chipped nails with a dismal expression, rubbing at them with the sandstone he kept for emergency manicures, and had retrieved from Frodo earlier, despite the argument that had erupted over it. Frodo too was particularly fussy over his outward appearance, and now that he had possession of the best-looking body that could presently be found, well, cat-fights were bound to happen ... and frequently.
Pippin suddenly recalled something, and turned to look at Gimli the Ranger with an inquisitive look in his dwarvish eyes. 'Er, Gimli - ' he began, somewhat awkwardly, ' - doesn't it strike you as a little strange you spoke to me, namely yourself, this morning and never thought twice about it?'
Gimli shrugged. 'No,' he said simply. 'Alright then,' Pippin nodded, and then frowned, looking bewildered, an expression common to Pippin yet containing much more thoughtfulness than Pippin was able to muster.
Gandalf stroked his chin, appearing pensive. 'And what about me!' piped Legolas, sounding rather strange as he was using Sam's voice. 'I am a PRINCE! I am an ELF! I am an ELVEN PRINCE! Not a hobbit gardener! I do not dig dirt, and I do not get my nails filthy with Valar knows what hides in that disgusting soil! Just look at these fingers! Last night, they were perfect, as worthy of a prince as princely worthiness can get. This morning, it looks like I have been digging in a pig sty!'
'Hey, Legolas, that's not a nice thing what to say,' said Sam, crossing Frodo's arms and tapping Frodo's hairy foot. 'I like being a gardener - regardless of what's hidden in the dirt - or where I dig.'
'Hee hee, I'm tall,' giggled Merry, and then crossed his eyes, looked distinctly sick, and added, 'I don't like heights ... '
'Be gentle with him!' said Boromir worriedly, peering out through Pippin's eyes. 'That's my body, mind what you do to it!'
'Ach laddie, tis only a body,' said Gimli. 'Pippin, give me the axe, eh? Afore you go and chop my head off.'
'And that's MY BODY!' shouted Aragorn, pointing accusingly at the original version of himself in which the dwarf was currently residing. His body shrugged nonchalantly, while Aragorn Brandybuck fumed in silence.
Frodo reached for Sam. 'Can I have the ring back now?' he asked politely, curling his fingers in a "hand-it-over-or-die" kind of gesture. 'DON'T YOU DARE PUT THAT THING ANYWHERE NEAR MY BODY!' screamed Legolas, stamping a foot in absoloute, point blank disapproval, rather a hard level of emotion for the simple Gamgee's body to accomplish effectively and efficiently. Legolas consequentially felt a little stupid as he ended up on his backside looking - well - stupid.
'Yes, Frodo. Sam will have to keep it for now, as it is your body and therefore you are more or less still keeping it,' said Gandalf pointedly. 'You see, although it is Sam who has your body at present, it is your mind that will continue to be corrupted. If you claimed it while in Legolas' body, then it would be the Elf who would be victimised while in Sam's body. Do you understand?'
'Yes,' said Frodo slowly. 'Your point being ... ?'
'Oh yes, thank you so much,' said Legolas in a tone dripping with sarcasm. 'I love you too.'
'Right, Gandalf,' said Aragorn, turning his four foot self to the wizard, who had fortunately remained unchanged. They dreaded to think what it would be like to be forced to live in that body ... 'We need the reversal thingy spell, and urgently.'
Gandalf fingered his collar and chuckled uneasily. 'Yes, well you see -'
'There is no reversal spell is there?' said Boromir drily.
'Well, er - not that I know of,' Gandalf confessed. Aragorn Brandybuck looked about ready to choke him, until Frodo Greenleaf, now having the height advantage, restrained him. 'Calm down,' he instructed. 'Strangle him,' said Legolas Gamgee. 'Shut up,' shot Boromir Took.
'Well, looks like we're a little stuck,' chimed in Pippin the Dwarf, spreading Gimli's hands in hopeless cheerfulness.
'Stuck - I am not, repeat NOT, going to live in this body for the rest of my life,' cried Boromir. At this Legolas winced, and was once again on the ground. 'He really needs to stop doing that,' said Samwise Baggins, shaking Frodo's head. 'It's making my head hurt.'
Chapter One: The Wind Did Not Change .
***
The darkling night was dark, and the unshapely shapes of heavy clouds loomed heavily overhead. Somewhere in the cloak of black that hung over the lands something whimpered, and somewhere else in the darkness another something tripped noisily over something else, which cursed in a most uncouth fashion.
'Bugger it Gandalf!' came a frustrated cry. 'You can remember the incantation for growing genetically-enhanced pipeweed - but you can't even remember the spell to light your staff?! By the way, was that you Legolas?'
'No, 'twas the DWARF your feet happened to fall on.'
Yet somewhere else in the darkness yet another something appeared to have been trodden on. 'Oh, sorry, Frodo - didn't see you there,' came the sheepish apology, when alerted by a sudden inexplicable increase in the elevation of the land which could only mean that - something had been trodden on.
'I'b dot Fwodo, kydly ged off by fayz,' came the rather muffled reply. 'What?' asked the first. 'I think you're standing on his face,' came the answer of another something, and then, 'Is that you Boromir?'
'No, I am Meriadoc Brandybuck, and kindly remove your hand from my crotch area, Frodo. It's making me a tad uncomfortable.'
'EEYAH! And I'm not Frodo, I'm Pippin. Valar, Merry! You've known me since I was born, and you can't even tell who I am in the dark? I am thoroughly offended.'
'Very well, I apologise. It's rather hard to differentiate by voice considering we all caught Aragorn's Valar damned cold - well, except for Legolas, but he sounds like he's forever congested anyway. Maybe Elves have permanent sinusitis, I remember Elrond talking like that too; although maybe they're just all gay - er, Pippin, your hand - please ...'
Pippin withdrew his hand with a speed that could have outraced the blink of an eye, while in the background his indistinguishable companions chortled with childish delight. Meanwhile, low mutterings of something which may have or may not have been exerpts of incantations came from the wizard's general direction.
'How long have we been wholly consumed by this forsaken darkness?' came the unmistakable voice of Legolas Greenleaf, laced with his customary whine and a dash of that adorable something which all Elves seemed to annoyingly have.
'Er ... four hours I think,' came the answer of whom they presumed was Aragorn, but as he had just been getting over that particularly nasty cold he had contracted two weeks before and was now suffering a relapse, it might have been Gimli.
'Dammit Gandalf! Can't you just light a fire - whose hand is that?' came the loud tones of Boromir, followed by some rather uncomfortable shifting. 'Oh, sorry ... was looking for my cloak,' answered the humiliated voice of Samwise Gamgee. 'Frodo? Mr. Frodo, where are you? You haven't said naught or complained or had anyone trip on you yet.'
'I'm over here,' came the reply. 'Though I'm not quite sure where here is - would whoever is sitting beside me kindly take their fumbling hand away from my chest?'
'Sorry.'
'Boromir! Would you just try to resist the urges of the Ring? I know it's beautiful and so - very powerful and - shiny and smooth and - golden ... I'm moving away from here.' The grass crunched underfoot as someone, they assumed it was Aragorn again, got up to move, and consequentially ended up sprawled in an untidy heap on the ground, much to the horror of Merry who had chosen that spot to lie down in.
'Ha ha! I've remembered!' came Gandalf's triumphant voice. 'Luminous lighto, presto chango!'
A momentary pause -
'Ahem ... yes, well, it might have escaped your notice but - IT IS STILL VERY DARK OUT HERE!'
'Alright Pippin, no need to get in a rut,' came Frodo's voice.
'I AM BOROMIR! There is a distinct difference between a hobbit and myself!'
'Sorry, but I thought you were sitting over ... never mind - you sound funny. Have you caught Aragorn's cold again? See? I told you we should have quarantined him!'
'Well, I say we should try to sleep out the rest of the dark hours. We'll have plenty of light in the morning,' came the subdued cheerfulness of Gimli's voice, who, it appeared, seemed to have moved at least ten paces without their noticing.
'Gimli? Have you been sniffing Aragorn's athelas again?' came Legolas' voice, who had not moved at all. A wet sniffle sounded from Aragorn's direction, definately belonging to Aragorn. Legolas flinched.
'I'm over here you pansy, and no I have not,' said who they thought was Gimli obstinately. Well, since the voice carried Gimli's characteristic indignant gruffness, they had to assume it was him once again.
'But I thought I heard ... I'm too tired for this,' muttered Legolas. 'Aragorn, if you dare use the back of my shirt as a hankerchief again tonight, expect to be dead come sunrise.'
***
The grey of dawn gave way to the rosy hue of the rising sun, and the morning chorus of small birds burst out in upraising unity. Strangely enough, it was Sam who woke first to greet the sun, stretching gratefully in the light and warmth so graciously bestowed upon them by the new day after the long dark of the night.
Gimli was the next to wake: he whom was usually one of the last and had to be wrestled out of his blankets. 'Morning Sam,' he said brightly, in a manner that was very unlike that of the dwarf's, and sprang up to relieve heavy limbs of the cramping aches resulting from the awkward position he had taken to lying in - yet another strange thing.
'Morning Sam,' he called, seeing the hobbit rummaging about nearby. Sam looked up in surprise, squinting at the dwarf. 'Are you blind?' he asked.
'No. Why?'
'Because I'm not Sam - I'm Legolas. You are Gimli, I am Legolas. Must I spell it out for you?'
'Sam, did you knock yourself on the head last night? I'm not Gimli, my name is Pippin and you know me well enough to see that I am not a dwarf.'
'No, you are definately a dwarf, unless you have gone and ... oh my Valar ... '
A long moment of awkwardness ensued, in which the two screamed similtaneously and stared blankly at one another before rocketing down the slope to check their reflections in the small nearby creek, after which more screams followed.
Aragorn sat up bemusedly, scratching his tousled head. 'What's the matter with you? Sam, you scream like a girl,' he yawned. 'I am NOT Sam,' cried the hobbit. 'And I'm not Gimli' cried the dwarf, adding, 'Or Sam!' for the sake of good measure.
'Course you are, go back to sleep,' muttered Aragorn, slumping back down onto his cloak, which he had recently been sharing with Legolas due to the fact the Elf's was somewhat missing in action, having been rolled in the mud by Gimli and then deposited back in Legolas' pack.
However, shortly after falling back asleep, Aragorn snorted, scratched, farted loudly and stole the entire cloak, then resumed his snoring. Legolas woke up and snatched it back. 'Valya Aragorn! What did you eat last night?' he asked, scrunching up his dainty Elven nose in disgust. 'Elbereth, I'm moving! ... Why was I even sleeping beside you in the first place? Did I sleep-walk or something, because I swear I fell asleep over there somewhere - ' A short pause ensued, in which he groped at his neck, his face a mask of horror. Resting hands on hips, he glared and said, 'Alright, Boromir! Where's the ring?'
Pippin awoke and gave him a blank look. 'Whaddaya mean?' he asked sleepily. 'Something goes missing and you immediately blame me. You Elves are so prejudiced.' He muttered something inaudible and dropped back to the ground
'I was talking to Boromir - and I'm not an Elf.'
'I am Boromir, you idiot!' said Pippin indignantly, sitting up. 'And have you checked your reflection lately? In any case, I haven't got the ring ... is it just me or have I shrunk over night?'
'Oh my Valar ... I'm seeing myself!' cried Sam, staring at the body of Legolas who claimed he was Frodo, and then proceeded to swoon and faint, falling with a painful thud. 'You were supposed to catch me!' he then yelled, coming to with a sharp knock on the head as his skull was introduced to a stone. Gimli shrugged. 'Sorry,' he said, and then saw Pippin, and he too was lying flat on his back on the ground in three seconds. Well, it took three seconds for him to fall but two minutes for him to realise he was supposedly looking at himself. Sam rolled his eyes in exasperation and pointedly fainted again.
'What is going on here?' cried Merry, unwravelling himself from a tangle of blankets. 'Legolas? What am I doing over here?'
'I'm not Legolas, I'm Frodo.'
'What? Don't be stupid ... what is that horrible smell?'
'It was Aragorn.'
'But I am Aragorn! Can't you see?'
'No, you are Merry. Aragorn is over there.'
Merry cast his bewildered gaze over the sleeping body of Aragorn, and a number of unpleasant oaths came spouting from his mouth. At which point, the body of Frodo woke up and glared at him. 'Mr. Merry, that's not nice language to use in the morning,' he said. 'My gaffer used to say "Keep your words clean and you'll stay out of trouble."' 'But I'm NOT Merry!' shouted Merry. 'And you don't have a gaffer, Frodo!'
'Frodo?' Frodo blushed deeply. 'Mr. Merry, I think you're mistaken. I'm Sam.'
'But Sam's over - ,' Merry waved vaguely in Sam's direction with mounting confusion. 'Who's wanting me?' came Boromir's voice, and looked over at the prone from of Master Gamgee who was still passed out from severe shock. 'Was it you Sam?'
'No, I was talking to Mr. Merry,' said Frodo, pointing at the shock-faced Brandybuck quite nicely wrapped in his nest of blankets, trembling uncontrollably and with the last drop of colour drained from his face.
'I am Merry, and I was talking to Sam,' said Boromir, bemused. 'Are you feeling well Frodo? I think you might have a fever, it's addled your brains. Have you caught Aragorn's cold again like Boromir?'
'I'm Sam!' yelled Frodo, clenching his fists in an uncharacteristic rage. 'And you haven't got a cold, Boromir! Has everyone lost all sense of - sense?'
Gandalf, robed in grey and carrying his staff, came sweeping gracefully onto the chaotic scene. 'Morning all!' he smiled, waving cheerily. At once realisation dawned on them.
'GANDALF!'
***
'Well, yes, I certainly see we have a problem.'
'Damn right we have a problem!' cried Aragorn, gesturing at the Brandybuck's body in which he was now entrapped. 'Look at me! I am four feet tall and have hairy feet! How is that going to go down in the court of Gondor?'
'All hail the exalted monarch: Strider squirt, antsy Aragorn, tiny Telcontar, the heir of Isildur who needs two volumes of the Chronicles of Varda to address the people, and another two to be at head height with the page boy and climb onto his throne,' said Legolas drily, inspecting his soiled and chipped nails with a dismal expression, rubbing at them with the sandstone he kept for emergency manicures, and had retrieved from Frodo earlier, despite the argument that had erupted over it. Frodo too was particularly fussy over his outward appearance, and now that he had possession of the best-looking body that could presently be found, well, cat-fights were bound to happen ... and frequently.
Pippin suddenly recalled something, and turned to look at Gimli the Ranger with an inquisitive look in his dwarvish eyes. 'Er, Gimli - ' he began, somewhat awkwardly, ' - doesn't it strike you as a little strange you spoke to me, namely yourself, this morning and never thought twice about it?'
Gimli shrugged. 'No,' he said simply. 'Alright then,' Pippin nodded, and then frowned, looking bewildered, an expression common to Pippin yet containing much more thoughtfulness than Pippin was able to muster.
Gandalf stroked his chin, appearing pensive. 'And what about me!' piped Legolas, sounding rather strange as he was using Sam's voice. 'I am a PRINCE! I am an ELF! I am an ELVEN PRINCE! Not a hobbit gardener! I do not dig dirt, and I do not get my nails filthy with Valar knows what hides in that disgusting soil! Just look at these fingers! Last night, they were perfect, as worthy of a prince as princely worthiness can get. This morning, it looks like I have been digging in a pig sty!'
'Hey, Legolas, that's not a nice thing what to say,' said Sam, crossing Frodo's arms and tapping Frodo's hairy foot. 'I like being a gardener - regardless of what's hidden in the dirt - or where I dig.'
'Hee hee, I'm tall,' giggled Merry, and then crossed his eyes, looked distinctly sick, and added, 'I don't like heights ... '
'Be gentle with him!' said Boromir worriedly, peering out through Pippin's eyes. 'That's my body, mind what you do to it!'
'Ach laddie, tis only a body,' said Gimli. 'Pippin, give me the axe, eh? Afore you go and chop my head off.'
'And that's MY BODY!' shouted Aragorn, pointing accusingly at the original version of himself in which the dwarf was currently residing. His body shrugged nonchalantly, while Aragorn Brandybuck fumed in silence.
Frodo reached for Sam. 'Can I have the ring back now?' he asked politely, curling his fingers in a "hand-it-over-or-die" kind of gesture. 'DON'T YOU DARE PUT THAT THING ANYWHERE NEAR MY BODY!' screamed Legolas, stamping a foot in absoloute, point blank disapproval, rather a hard level of emotion for the simple Gamgee's body to accomplish effectively and efficiently. Legolas consequentially felt a little stupid as he ended up on his backside looking - well - stupid.
'Yes, Frodo. Sam will have to keep it for now, as it is your body and therefore you are more or less still keeping it,' said Gandalf pointedly. 'You see, although it is Sam who has your body at present, it is your mind that will continue to be corrupted. If you claimed it while in Legolas' body, then it would be the Elf who would be victimised while in Sam's body. Do you understand?'
'Yes,' said Frodo slowly. 'Your point being ... ?'
'Oh yes, thank you so much,' said Legolas in a tone dripping with sarcasm. 'I love you too.'
'Right, Gandalf,' said Aragorn, turning his four foot self to the wizard, who had fortunately remained unchanged. They dreaded to think what it would be like to be forced to live in that body ... 'We need the reversal thingy spell, and urgently.'
Gandalf fingered his collar and chuckled uneasily. 'Yes, well you see -'
'There is no reversal spell is there?' said Boromir drily.
'Well, er - not that I know of,' Gandalf confessed. Aragorn Brandybuck looked about ready to choke him, until Frodo Greenleaf, now having the height advantage, restrained him. 'Calm down,' he instructed. 'Strangle him,' said Legolas Gamgee. 'Shut up,' shot Boromir Took.
'Well, looks like we're a little stuck,' chimed in Pippin the Dwarf, spreading Gimli's hands in hopeless cheerfulness.
'Stuck - I am not, repeat NOT, going to live in this body for the rest of my life,' cried Boromir. At this Legolas winced, and was once again on the ground. 'He really needs to stop doing that,' said Samwise Baggins, shaking Frodo's head. 'It's making my head hurt.'