Taunting Elves

Disclaimer: While sobbing I don't own Lord of the Rings! There! I said it now! Are you happy?!!?! Sniffles I do, however, own this! Holds up a piece of a paper and waggles it threateningly Mine! Mine! ALL MINE! BWAHAHAHAHAHAA! Runs off.

Summary: Maca-maca-maca-roon… which has NOTHING to do with the story, thank God! But you'll just have to read to find out why I now said… "Oops… sorry about that arrow, there…"

BTW, thank you to all who reviewed! ::Hugs and kisses to all:: I've never had somebody review a first chapter! I'm all full of warm fuzzies! I haven't felt like this since… since… ::Sobs and squeezes a kind reviewer until their eyes pop out:: Oops! Ah… I'll pay for that…

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Legolas was NOT pleased to have been woken up from his pleasant, forest-filled dream, especially as his head was throbbing like a large tympani. In fact, he could now distinguish two separate notes… no wait… four… wow! He had all four drums going at once!

Merry looked at Pippin. Pippin looked at Merry. Legolas was staring at no one in particular. The pleased smile had plastered itself all over his face once again.

"Suppose he got hit AWFULLY hard…" Merry said sagely.

Pippin nodded vigorously. "Or else he's drunk again."

As the fight was slowly winding down, others were able to come to Merry and Pippin's aid. Unfortunately, not even Aragorn snapping his fingers in Legolas's face or Boromir shaking him violently (For awhile, until Aragorn noted the cracking noise was not, in fact, natural) seemed to be able to shake the Elf from his stupor.

"Maybe he has a concussion." Frodo said, stating the one thing the rest of the company should have figured out a long time before.

"I told you," Aragorn said triumphantly to Boromir, "Cracking noise? Not natural."

Boromir muttered something that was, luckily, not caught by the other man, as he was too busy checking his pack for herbs.

Legolas was still smiling. He now had a whole symphonic orchestra playing in his head! Just for him!

The smile became a little lopsided and deranged.

Sam, who had been watching the Elf, had not failed to notice that. "Uhm…" He began.

The Hobbit looked over at the rest of the Company, who was arguing over what was better to use for headaches… Shilft paw or Excedrin? Gimli was repeatedly suggesting different types of poisonous herbs. Frodo was patiently trying to explain that headaches and concussions were, not, in fact, one and the same.

Legolas was now staring at Sam with a most disturbing look on his face. Sam cringed. He couldn't exactly place the stare, but he knew it wasn't leading towards something good. "Uhm…" He said, a little louder this time.

Sometimes, when one feels an absolute panic, they rise to the occasion. Their hearts and souls strengthen. Minds held down by chains of cowardice are sheered aside by sudden and unexpected moments of bravery so intense that even the brightest stars are paled alongside them.

This was not one of those times. As when Legolas began laughing insanely, Sam let out a yelp and scrambled backwards, as far away from the cackling Elf as he could get without actually leaving the camp.

"Oh, good… he's conscious." Gimli said.


"BWHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAA!!!" Said Legolas.

"Are you sure?" Aragorn whispered. He wasn't sure why he was whispering. But in the presence of complete psychopaths, one often feels it necessary not to make any sudden, loud movements.

"Well… his eyes are open…" Gimli said doubtfully.

That, of course, meant nothing, seeing as Elves usually had their eyes open, for one reason or another. But, watching Legolas laugh insanely was rather disturbing, and nobody wanted to think that he was sleep-guffawing.

Cautiously, the company approached Legolas, really quite worried about what he might do if he decided to become as dangerous than he sounded. After all, he DID still have his weapons…

"Are you okay, Legolas?" Aragorn asked.

"MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAA!!!"

"His throat's doing just fine…" Merry noted, rubbing one sore ear.

At this point, one might wonder just what was going on inside that pretty, crazy little head of the Elf. We would wonder, wouldn't we? But alas, this knowledge is not to be. But let's just say; it's pretty darn disturbing, and involves more than one pink fuzzy cow.

After a few minutes of gentle coaxing and a few mad dashes for the bushes, the company had finally gotten their crazy little Elf to stop laughing maniacally. Every once in awhile, he would chuckle, but the disturbing blank stare had mostly returned.

After what had happened to Sam, there was a unanimous vote to elect a new water-of-Legolas. Since Boromir claimed to have used up too much of his energy shaking Legolas, and Aragorn claimed to have used up too much of his energy telling Boromir to stop shaking Legolas, it was given to Gimli, as no one really dared to trust the Hobbits with watching a mental patient ever again.

So, it was that night that saw Gimli sitting next to a giggling Legolas. He tugged his beard nervously. He didn't like sitting next to psychotic Elves. The Dwarf had just gotten used to the idea of sitting next to normal Elves. Psychotic Elves was a whole other dish. He had never even thought of putting up with psychotic Elves. It was just… beyond comprehension.

Gimli was so deep in meditation that he didn't notice Legolas had cut off most of his beard until he realized he had an unusual breeze on his chin.

The Dwarf looked at his severed beard, looked over at Legolas, who was grinning like a stoned squirrel, and let out an ear-piercing scream.