Aragorn, Please Wash Your Hair! Or I Won't Marry You!
Declaimer: Somewhere over the rainbow skies are blue and the dreams that you dare to dream really do come true... Somewhere over the rainbow I would own LotR. To my greatest disappointment, this is not somewhere over the rainbow.
The Warning
Aragorn was at the camp at Dunharrow. It was the middle of the night and he was having terrible nightmares. He dropped the Evenstar and smashed it. Then he saw Arwen lying on her bed, a tear rolling down her face.
"I wish I could have seen him with clean hair," she whispered. "One last time,"
Aragorn sat up in horror, a dagger drawn instinctively.
"Sir?" came a voice from the doorway. He looked around. "King Theoden awaits you, my lord," the messenger said.
Aragorn walked moodily into Theoden's tent. There was someone in a cloak sitting in the corner.
"I'll take my leave," Theoden said, walking out.
Aragorn turned to the figure in the corner. It rose and pushing back his cloak, revealed itself to be Elrond.
"My lord Elrond,"
"I come on behalf of one whom I love," he declared. "Arwen is dying. She will not long survive the evil that now spreads from your hair. The light of the Evenstar is failing. As your hair gets dirtier, her strength wanes. Arwen's life is now tied to your hair and your hair is getting filthier by the day. The Shadow of an age with no shampoo is upon us, Aragorn. The end has come."
"It will not be our end, but the end of me not washing my hair."
"You might try, but you won't succseed. Old habit die hard."
"I will wash my hair," Aragorn insisted.
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