Chapter III—To the Borders of Mirkwood

For several days the company rode, camping at night and riding during the day. Astaldo barely survived the grueling journey. Food was already running low because Aragorn hadn't involved Arwen in his excursion planning. Within five very long days, during which Legolas became hysterical for no apparent reason, they reached the borders of Mirkwood.

"Now," said Aragorn, turning to the worked-up elf. "Where exactly were you when you were attacked?"

"How should I know?" Legolas answered, glaring. "What do you think I am, a walking GPS?"

They continued to ride adjacent the tree-line, although Aragorn ordered the men to slow their horses to a walk. "We must try to remain unnoticed," he said.

Legolas laughed bitterly. "Good luck, bucko…"

The company rode on, past thousands of dark trees. Legolas glanced nervously into the woods, expecting something to jump out at any moment – or swoop down and grab him. Suddenly, his eyes caught movement up ahead. He turned to Aragorn. "Whoa. We got company."

Aragorn strained his eyes in vain. "Legolas," he said, "I don't have elf eyes. I can't see as far as you."

Legolas nodded. "Pity." He pulled out a pair of binoculars that he conveniently had on his person and scanned the landscape. When he spied the approaching figures, he jumped. Gimli? Nooooooo… "Uh, Aragorn?"

"Yes, Legolas?"

"There appear to be, uh, a small company of Orcs approaching. Yeah. Maybe we should pick them off at a distance, hmm?"

"Are you sure?" Aragorn asked, dubious.

"Have my eyes ever failed me before?"

"Well," Aragorn sighed, "we are a much larger group. Let's wait till I can see them plainly."

"Fine," Legolas scoffed. "Whatever. Of course you would know best, you idiotic ingrate."

"What?" asked Aragorn pleasantly.

"Oh, nothing."

A few minutes later, Aragorn could see the figures. It appeared to be several small people with a few horses, and certainly not Orcs. The company continued riding, though there were many questioning glances at Legolas. Finally, the two parties could see each other plainly. The newcomers were Gimli and the three hobbits, Merry, Sam, and Pippin. They waved happily. Legolas waved so unenthusiastically it was debatable whether he was actually waving.

"Two months is far too long, laddie!" Gimli exulted.

"So glad to see you," Legolas muttered, voice dripping with sarcastic venom.

"Tell you the truth, I was missing my pointy-eared friend quite a bit," said the Dwarf.

"I'll bet you were," mumbled the elf, glaring. I'll bet you missed imposing your ugly dwarvish self upon my hospitality for six weeks, eating half the food in Mirkwood, camping out in my bedroom, annoying me all day with your loutish mannerisms! I'll bet you did.

Aragorn was talking and laughing with Sam, Merry, and Pippin as if they weren't on a life-threatening quest and they weren't all about to die. Pathetic. The dwarf and hobbits mounted their horse and ponies and joined the company. Gimli, unfortunately, rode next to Legolas.

"I never did get used to horses," grumbled the Dwarf. "But the messenger said I was to ride swiftly to Mirkwood. What's all this about anyway?"

Legolas resisted the urge to land another sarcastic remark. After all, he didn't want to destroy the elaborate pretense he had spent six weeks maintaining – the pretense that he and Gimli were buddy-buddy. He wasn't sure why he wanted to maintain it; possibly because it would keep the Elves in good terms with the Dwarves, but who really cared anyway? Did he really need a reason? Maybe, he figured, it was all an elaborate game he played – his disingenuousness – something with which to entertain himself. The notion that Gimli was none the wiser that his supposed "best friend" truly hated his guts was somewhat thrilling to Legolas. The elf finally responded. "Oh, nothing really. Just had a run-in with it."

A concerned look crossed Gimli's face. "What's it?" he questioned, an edge of nervousness pervading his intonation.

"I don't know," said Legolas. "I can't tell you until the author decides what it is. Believe me, when I get the info, you'll be the first to know."

"But, didn't you see it?" persisted Gimli, frowning.

"Yes and no," replied Legolas. "I did see it, and therefore I should know, but I don't really because I am a character in a story and, in the end, I can only know as much as the author does."

"That makes sense," said the dwarf, looking ominously toward the dark tree line.

Eager to avoid further interaction with Gimli, Legolas took this opportunity to sidle up to Aragorn. Now he could feel free to return to his previous unexplained hysterical behavior. If ever Aragorn dared ask a question, Legolas responded with a biting remark. This made Legolas feel slightly better for some reason. However, Aragorn didn't seem to care that he was Legolas' verbal punching bag; it was mild compared with the tongue-lashing he usually received from Arwen.

At last, the dusk was creeping in. The horses were growing weary, but still the men pressed them on, because that is what one does to things that cannot vocally protest their abuse. A hill was seen up ahead. Clearly the first one they had seen all day.

"We will stop and rest the horses there," said Aragorn, pointing to the hill, an absurdly gleeful expression on his face.

"Brilliant!" exulted Legolas with mock enthusiasm. "Sure, we'll have the tactical advantage in anything but an aerial attack. And the best part is that the thing we're hunting is flying! Aragorn, your strategizing has never been better…"

"Oh, good," laughed Merry, Legolas' scorn having gone completely over his head. "Great idea, Aragorn. I needed my supper." They made it to the hill within another five minutes and the men dismounted and tended their horses, then built an enormous bonfire that all but heralded to every creature within four leagues that Aragorn and his idiotic entourage were out and about. After the men, dwarf, and hobbits had eaten all the remaining food, Aragorn sought out Legolas for a bit of sage counsel. The elf was brooding on the opposite side of the bonfire, sitting hunched on a log, glaring into the flames as if he thought his gaze could out-burn them.

Fully ignoring the fact that Legolas was in no mood to be disturbed, Aragorn cheerfully queried, "How much further do you think, Legolas?"

The elf didn't even regard Aragorn. "Something vile is near," he replied finally, his tone of voice chilling those who heard him. And you think I mean it, but I really mean you.

At first light, Legolas strode to the crest of the hill to survey the landscape on the other side, wondering why no one had thought to do that the previous night. What he saw left him speechless, but that didn't stop him from fairly shrieking with fright. Conveniently close to the base of the hill, charmingly situated amongst a grove of tall poplar trees, was a wicked and evil building – as big as a small fortress. It had been built of black cinder blocks and looked somewhat gothic, sporting eaves with steep acclivities, latticework window shutters, and tall black chimneys billowing pink smoke. Legolas knew it was wicked and evil because of the pink smoke. We all know that pink is the evilest color EVER. Legolas wondered why no one had noticed the construction of this evil building before, seeing as it was so close to the borders of Mirkwood and appeared to have been there for quite some time. Of course, appearances can be deceiving. He wondered what he should do.

Okay. At the very least, they're encroaching on territory that legally belongs to the Wood Elves, and we could easily send them packing for that offense alone. And the pink smoke… we can make a case about how they're contributing to global warming! And the general "evilness" of the world. He wanted to figure out exactly what mischief they were really about, seeing as one doesn't cause pink smoke to billow from one's chimneys unless one is up to something wicked and evil. Therefore, he traversed sneakily and stealthily down the steep hillside, keeping hidden best he could behind the occasional tree or scraggly bush, until he was just behind the building. He noticed a small window nearby, so naturally, he carefully peered inside. He had to cover his mouth to keep from gasping. Without another second wasted, he turned and sprinted back up the hill from whence he'd come.

Uncharacteristically out of breath, he rushed to Aragorn, who was still snoozing peacefully with everyone else on the lee side of the hill. "Wake up! Wake up, you pathetic excuse!" Legolas screeched, shaking the sleeping former-ranger violently. Aragorn finally sputtered awake, reaching for his sword. Unfortunately, his sword was nowhere to be found, so he grabbed the nearest available object, which happened to be a ukulele (the night before, they had used it to accompany campfire ditties). Alas for the hapless instrument, after Aragorn, in his groggy state, attempted to thwack Legolas with it, the elf snatched it away and splintered it over Aragorn's head, producing a bizarre twanging noise that rang like a gong throughout the morning's otherwise stillness.

Subsequent to Aragorn regaining consciousness, Legolas did his best to convey what horrors he had seen. "Down the hill, on the other side, there's a building of some type—!" The men, dwarf, and hobbits immediately gasped and ran to have a look, but Legolas hissed at them and they reluctantly returned to hear the rest of what he had to say. Aragorn just sat, looking around dazedly. "As I was saying," Legolas continued, glowering, "the building appeared to accommodate a number of suspicious persons, based on its size, who certainly carried out suspiciously wicked and evil activities. Thinking thus, I crept closer to have a look inside. What I saw you will not believe." The men leaned closer, Gimli fingered his ax, and the hobbits began to quake. "I saw…" Legolas trailed off, enjoying overmuch his listeners' reactions. "I saw…"

Unexpectedly, Aragorn leapt abruptly to his feet with a crazed look in his eyes. Waving the broken half of the ukulele that included the headstock, bridge, and a tangle of strings, he began frenziedly shouting mystifying orders. "Very well, men! Left, right, left! Up you get!" The others watched in bewilderment as he clumsily crawled astride his picketed horse, facing backwards in the saddle, and then attempted to spur his heretofore-trusty mount onward with a swift kick. The horse reared up, snapped its rope, and sent Aragorn plummeting off to do an ignominious face-plant on the turf. Surprisingly, he was unhurt, and simply climbed back into the saddle, again backwards. This time, he addressed his men (apparently). "We cannot nest. We must call upon them now. Form clinkety-clanks. Archers above, swordsman below. Archers are to aim for the trees. The trees are taking over the forest. I will lead the swordsmen in an attack to storm their headquarters. Doubtless, many of you will fall. Do not give in. Bring forth the Aqua Net and spandex! We must drive this evil from our lands forever!"

Gimli, Merry, Pippin, Sam, and all the men turned from one to the other and spoke in hushed, respectful tones. It was clear Aragorn had lost his mind. They must be very supportive of him during this difficult time of his life. But this was hardly the time for their fearless leader to be mentally incapacitated. Everyone knew that a temporary replacement for Aragorn had to be selected. And naturally, the only qualified individual from Legolas' point of view seemed to be Legolas himself. He made his opinion known, and (wisely) no one dared to contradict him. Shortly thereafter, they all watched soberly as Aragorn galloped off into the trees, backwards astride his steed, still frenziedly waving his ridiculous weapon and shouting nonsensically about trees taking over the world.

Legolas immediately took charge, forming his small force into ranks. Then he turned to the dwarf and hobbits. While he certainly wouldn't have minded terribly if Gimli fell in battle, Legolas didn't want to seem apathetic about his "friends'" participation in said battle. Therefore, he quickly concocted an elaborate speech to give the impression that he was genuinely concerned about the possibility of them being injured or killed in the melee with the as of yet unnamed foe. "You have a choice whether to fight or to flee. I know the currently mental Aragorn called you here, for whatever reason, but that doesn't obligate you to fight in the imminent skirmish. I do not blame you for turning back now… okaymaybealittle…" He smirked as he saw the indignation in their faces, as they assumed he thought they were poltroons who would flee from a battle.

There was no hesitation in their voices. "What do you take me for?" Gimli bellowed obnoxiously. "I, run and prove myself a coward in front of you – an elf? I, miss a good fight? What are we waiting for? Let's go!"

"We're coming, too!" said Merry, hopping up and down with a fool-hardly excitement.

Pippin also began hopping elatedly for some reason. "You'll have to send us home tied up in a sack to stop us!"

That can be arranged. Legolas rolled his eyes. Okay, it doesn't get much stupider than recycling lines. Oy. I did NOT sign up for this. "A-ha-ha-ha," Legolas laughed, completely mirthlessly, giving them the impression that he appreciated their stupid attempts at humor. "Hilarious. Now that that's settled, get in line. We have a horrifying adversary to face – the FOO FANGIRLS!"