I have to admit - being part of the Fellowship wasn't as great as I thought
it'd be. We planned to spend the night in the cozy cave, after some
bickering between Gandalf and Boromir. Boromir had wanted to go for the Gap
of Rohan (I asked him, "There's a Gap?? Ohhh!!! I wanna go!!! I need a new
sweater," and he looked at me funnily) while Gandalf wanted to go up the
Cahadras. Of course, prior to the 48 times I'd watched Lord of the Rings, I
knew what they were going to end up doing, but I decided (for once) not to
speak up, because of my angelically-tamed discipline.
Actually, I was too busy gaping at Legolas to be the loquacious girl I usually was.
Okay, so he looked hot in the movie, we all agreed after stepping out of the theater. But oh, MIGOD. He was even more perfect in real life than he was on film. He was quiet, but the sparse words that came out were filled with wisdom even Gandalf envied. And his movements were so graceful and natural, like a really beautiful male version of a ballet dancer. He was SO beautiful!!!!!!!! I couldn't stop. My eyes were plastered to him.
I had been openly staring at him for about three hours when he looked at me with eyes filled with contempt, so I got the message and stopped.
So how many of the nine hate me now? Well, Gandalf thinks I'm a nutcase, Legolas thinks there's something wrong with my optical senses and that I smell, and Gimli thinks I'm edible. Aragorn's mad at me for having Arwen's special little cloak (which I have to admit, is very warm, but has this funny odor to it) and Boromir just all-out despises me. Oh well, the hobbits didn't seem to dislike me at all. Especially Pippin. Although I didn't really directly talk to him yet, I could hear his merry laugh whenever I said something funny and I caught him sneaking looks of adoration at me, which made me feel very nice inside. He would make such a perfect little brother.
All these thoughts were in my head as I planned to snuggle into the extra sleeping bag that Samwise had so thoughtfully brought ("It was for if Mr. Frodo got cold!"). The cave was chilly, and the flurries outside didn't seem to have an end. All this wasn't in the movie. I guess they had a much harder time than the film projected.
I clumsily got into the sleeping bag after a brief battle with it (it won), and closed my eyes. In a few moments, Gandalf and Gimli's snores could be heard quite distinctly all over the cave. Naturally, I couldn't sleep. So I got out and wrapped Arwen's cloak around me, hugging Teddykins. A sudden idea popped up in my head.
"Is he REALLY sleeping?" I whispered in the dark, looking at the slender figure of Legolas laying in a graceful sprawl a couple yards away. I decided to find out and I crawled over to him, dragging Teddykins. Even in the dark, his gorgeous eyes shone. It gave me the creeps to see him like that, eyes wide open. His lips were parted perfectly like the petals of a blossoming rose.
Nervously and ever so carefully, I waved a finger in front of his face. Nothing happened.
I waved my whole hand, more audaciously. Still nothing.
Then my courage exploded. I leaned my face really close to his, and stuck out my tongue, licking the top of his straight, perfect nose gently. In a flash, I pulled back and started giggling uncontrollably, using Teddykins' soft body to smother the sound. And then, the most ingenious idea popped in my head.
This was the absolute PERFECT chance to kiss him, wasn't it?
Very very slowly, I removed Teddykins from my mouth and stopped laughing. I studied Legolas' gorgeous face for a full minute , and concluded satisfactorily that he was definitely 100% in slumber. I carefully bent over him and at a snail's face, lowered my head, until my lips met his.
How could I describe it? Although he wasn't responding, it was definitely the most wonderful kiss that I'd ever experienced. His rose lips were cool and sweet, but I didn't dare press any harder. We were only in contact for about 5 seconds when -
"AHHH!!!!!!!!!!!" I screamed, when his lips moved under mine, much to my surprise, and he gave a yelp of surprise. Immediately I got off him.
"Elbereth!" he gasped, looking more adorable than ever leaping up in the air like that. Funny, I wasn't even embarrassed, only very amused to see my Elven prince so fussed over nothing. He was scared, and definitely confused. I grinned.
"What is so amusing?" he hissed, but kept his voice down to not disturb the others. Very thoughtful. "What were you doing to me?"
"What are you talking about?" I batted my eyes innocently.
"You know!" Boy, he was furious. "You-you w-we-were-"
"What?"
"KISSING ME!"
I stared at him blankly, biting my lip to keep from detonating with laughter.
"Legolas, my Prince, I think those lembas really got to you."
"What??"
I repeated my previous statement, and his face flushed carmine. Poor baby.
"They did no such thing, you boor!"
"That's colorful language." I taunted. "Gee, you sure have a very testy temper." He couldn't think of anything to say, so he just crossed his arms and glared at me. Awww. He was just too cute.
"Well, Leggie, I've had enough with your silly tantrums. I'm going to sleep, and in the morning I hope you will have recovered from your temporary insanity." I crawled back into my sleeping bag and pretended I was sleeping after a few moments, although I definitely could hear some cursing from Legolas' direction.
I came close to suffocating from concealing my giggles that night, when he actually said, "Those lembas DID taste a bit weird to me last night."
:::
"Wake up, Evelyn."
I kept my eyes shut, hoping somehow that it'd wipe out the vexing voice, also.
"Evelyn." Strong hands gently shook me, but still I didn't open my eyes.
"EVELYN."
I groaned as a boot nudged me.
"Wake up this instant or I shall have Master Gimli sing his latest-"
I quickly sat up.
"No need," I smiled tiredly, meeting Pippin's friendly brown eyes. "I'm up."
"That's what I thought," he chuckled.
:::
Over a breakfast of overcooked bacon (you all THINK Sam's a good cook, but he's NOT. Trust me, he's not.) and eggs, I peered at Legolas the whole time. He seemed to be avoiding my stare, always diverting his eyes from me. A sense of satisfaction filled my stomach, much better than the nasty food. It was good to know who was in control, as usual.
Meanwhile, Gandalf had gone into bickering (sigh) AGAIN with Boromir.
"I'm telling you, Gandalf, that the Gap is the safest route!"
"'Tis not! I should rather die of freezing gale than in the clutches of Saruman's fingers!"
"Yeah, I know," I piped in. "He has the GIRLIEST nails!!"
They stared at me. So I resumed my breakfast.
"Uh-anyway, Isengard is not dangerously close to the Gap."
"Boromir, my friend, you are wrong."
I snickered.
"Hey!" Gimli entered the conversation, his rough voice filled with excitement. "We could pass through the mines of Moria!" He made a funny rolling sound with the 'r' of 'Moria'.
"No, Gimli. There are foul creatures in the depth of those mines. It would not be wise," Gandalf said. A forlorn look swept his face. I shuddered involuntarily.
"My cousin Balin would keep us from those creatures. I'm willing to bet my beard they're all gone, anyway."
"Really?" I perked up. "You're serious about your beard?"
"No, not really."
I shrank back to my corner and sulked. What wouldn't I have given for a beardless Gimli!
:::
About twenty minutes later, we all stepped reluctantly out of the cozy little cave. The biting gale stung my neck and my face, and I wrapped the clothes everyone had so generously let me have, one of which was Legolas' dark green cloak. (Gimli had offered me boots, but I politely accepted Aragorn's proposal after seeing the weird things in the dwarf shoe's sole and inhaling the sickening odor)
We trudged along for a million hours to everywhere and nowhere in the deep, bitter snow, and I yearned to stop. I could barely make out anything through the grey haze but a couple of figures. Occasionally, I glanced over at Legolas and envied his Elven lightness. He was always several yards ahead, walking on the snow like it was grass. My eyes hurt from the biting wind and before long, all my clothes were sopping wet from the snow contact. It seemed like I tripped and stumbled infinite times. I walked beside Frodo, who remained somber and not talkative at all. Lines of worry penetrated his smooth skin; even I could see that. A couple of times, I caught a glimpse of the One Ring, hanging so vulnerably around his neck. Every time my eyes rested on the little gold band, a weird feeling jumped in my stomach.
Finally, FINALLY the snow receded from a violent thrashing monster into sparse drifting flakes, and old Gandalf called everyone to a stop. We were about halfway down, he announced proudly.
At that time, I probably looked more like a rotten banana peel than a normal (if you could call me normal) person. My hair was mussed and half- frozen and I couldn't even run my fingers through two inches without hitting a tangle. My clothes looked totally alien. Several huge, heavy cloaks covered me, along with two layers of pants (don't ask) and Aragorn's awkward fitting spare boots. Underneath it all, one could still perhaps see a flying pig or a small part of my pajamas. When Gandalf's words reached my ears, I dropped my pack (yes, they made me carry one) and promptly fell flat on my butt, panting like an ill dog.
Everyone else seemed to have suffered, also. Although the men didn't show it (they have such EGOS!), I could tell that Aragorn and Boromir were thoroughly exhausted. Gandalf looked weary and leaned heavily on his staff. Gimli was kind of neutral, and Legolas was already off somewhere, probably scouting for any enemies with his superkeen eyesight. The hobbits had as much energy as wood chips, with their faces red from exhaustion and their movements slow. They were hunched over some food.
I closed my eyes and breathed in the chilly, clean air slowly. In the movie, the Cahadras had been BEAUTIFUL. Not exhausting. And it looked so easy to walk on, with the snow all prettily white and smooth like marble. I groaned. I didn't even see Legolas creeping up behind me until I heard him clear his throat.
I jumped up and turned around, looking up into his gorgeous blue eyes.
"Yes?" I asked. He took a seat beside me. I was wholly surprised that such a noble Elf would lower his standards to sitting on the snow next to me, and I voiced my thoughts.
He cocked a perfectly angled dark eyebrow. "I am not as much as a noble Elf as you would think, my lady."
"Really."
"Yes, I'm afraid so." A heart-burning smile crossed his lips, and I grinned back, completing a celestial moment. But he suddenly looked uncomfortable.
"Well, was that all you wanted to say to me, Legolas?" I taunted innocently.
"Uh, actually, no."
"Then spill."
"What?"
"Talk."
He talked.
"Last night, I kind of had an extremely peculiar dream. At least, I believe 'twas a dream. Somehow, you were in it." He trailed off uncertainty.
"Ooohhh, really? What was I doing?" I widened my eyes, pretending to be thoroughly intrigued.
"You were kissing me," he replied bluntly. I was surprised at his courage to just blurt it out, but masked my consternation.
"Legolas!" I exclaimed, horrified. I put a hand to my heart, and then to his hand.
"Do you think it means something for us?" My voice was low.
He drew his hand back immediately.
"No!"
I smiled gingerly. "Just checking. But you DO love me, deep down. Anyway, why did you tell me that?"
"I wanted to make sure 'twas a dream, and not reality," he replied. I laughed and playfully swatted at his shoulder.
"Of course not! Legolas, and besides, why would I kiss you? You're all dirty from all that nancing around!" I said. He looked a little offended, and I couldn't suppress my giggles. Obviously, being called 'dirty' was not extremely common with such a vain Elf.
He was about to say something, but Gandalf's commanding voice interrupted the activities of us all.
"We need to move on, for I feel Saruman's eyes on my back, like a hawk," he said.
I blew a raspberry. Just when things were starting to get fun, the old crook had to inform us about his hallucinations. Argh. Oh well. I picked up my bag and stood up, as everyone else was reassembling. Sadly, I noted that Legolas had walked away to gather his stuff.
One by one, we followed old Gandalf in a single order trail. I was between Legolas and Boromir this time, with Legolas right behind me. The snow was falling gently in huge, fluffy flakes that fell softly into his golden hair, and I practically drooled as I stared at his yellow locks hanging so naturally around those broad shoulders.
Man, why couldn't everyday guys wear their hair like that?
And then, I noticed them. The two perfectly made braids hanging from his temples and drifting loosely on his back.
Oh. My. God. Perfection. Made to be spoiled.
It was a totally too-perfect opportunity. My fingers itched. I chastised myself mentally for evening THINKING about it. By this time, they had already started to physically itch and I scratched them, deciding whether to do it or not.
Heck, was I ever going to get another chance like this? The thought popped into my head and before I knew it, my hands were clasped firmly around the left braid and I yanked for all that I was worth-
I'm not even going to tell you how long I was laughing my head off when he released THE most girlish scream that had ever escaped from a male's mouth.
But I CAN tell you that for the rest of the day, good old Gandalf the Grey had unburdened from many heavy shawls and wools and cloths and whatnot-
In other words, my punishment was to hike the rest of the way down the Cahadras in my blue furry slippers and a thin layer of cloud 'jammies.
But hey, it was worth it, right?
:::
A/N - Man, is Evelyn ever going to stop with her crazy stunts? Will Legolas ever be rid of his admirer's actions of passion? Will Aragorn ever wash his hair? Will Gimli ever shave his beard off? Will this story ever have a point? Will the author stop asking these rhetorical questions?
Nope. Not really. ;-)
Actually, I was too busy gaping at Legolas to be the loquacious girl I usually was.
Okay, so he looked hot in the movie, we all agreed after stepping out of the theater. But oh, MIGOD. He was even more perfect in real life than he was on film. He was quiet, but the sparse words that came out were filled with wisdom even Gandalf envied. And his movements were so graceful and natural, like a really beautiful male version of a ballet dancer. He was SO beautiful!!!!!!!! I couldn't stop. My eyes were plastered to him.
I had been openly staring at him for about three hours when he looked at me with eyes filled with contempt, so I got the message and stopped.
So how many of the nine hate me now? Well, Gandalf thinks I'm a nutcase, Legolas thinks there's something wrong with my optical senses and that I smell, and Gimli thinks I'm edible. Aragorn's mad at me for having Arwen's special little cloak (which I have to admit, is very warm, but has this funny odor to it) and Boromir just all-out despises me. Oh well, the hobbits didn't seem to dislike me at all. Especially Pippin. Although I didn't really directly talk to him yet, I could hear his merry laugh whenever I said something funny and I caught him sneaking looks of adoration at me, which made me feel very nice inside. He would make such a perfect little brother.
All these thoughts were in my head as I planned to snuggle into the extra sleeping bag that Samwise had so thoughtfully brought ("It was for if Mr. Frodo got cold!"). The cave was chilly, and the flurries outside didn't seem to have an end. All this wasn't in the movie. I guess they had a much harder time than the film projected.
I clumsily got into the sleeping bag after a brief battle with it (it won), and closed my eyes. In a few moments, Gandalf and Gimli's snores could be heard quite distinctly all over the cave. Naturally, I couldn't sleep. So I got out and wrapped Arwen's cloak around me, hugging Teddykins. A sudden idea popped up in my head.
"Is he REALLY sleeping?" I whispered in the dark, looking at the slender figure of Legolas laying in a graceful sprawl a couple yards away. I decided to find out and I crawled over to him, dragging Teddykins. Even in the dark, his gorgeous eyes shone. It gave me the creeps to see him like that, eyes wide open. His lips were parted perfectly like the petals of a blossoming rose.
Nervously and ever so carefully, I waved a finger in front of his face. Nothing happened.
I waved my whole hand, more audaciously. Still nothing.
Then my courage exploded. I leaned my face really close to his, and stuck out my tongue, licking the top of his straight, perfect nose gently. In a flash, I pulled back and started giggling uncontrollably, using Teddykins' soft body to smother the sound. And then, the most ingenious idea popped in my head.
This was the absolute PERFECT chance to kiss him, wasn't it?
Very very slowly, I removed Teddykins from my mouth and stopped laughing. I studied Legolas' gorgeous face for a full minute , and concluded satisfactorily that he was definitely 100% in slumber. I carefully bent over him and at a snail's face, lowered my head, until my lips met his.
How could I describe it? Although he wasn't responding, it was definitely the most wonderful kiss that I'd ever experienced. His rose lips were cool and sweet, but I didn't dare press any harder. We were only in contact for about 5 seconds when -
"AHHH!!!!!!!!!!!" I screamed, when his lips moved under mine, much to my surprise, and he gave a yelp of surprise. Immediately I got off him.
"Elbereth!" he gasped, looking more adorable than ever leaping up in the air like that. Funny, I wasn't even embarrassed, only very amused to see my Elven prince so fussed over nothing. He was scared, and definitely confused. I grinned.
"What is so amusing?" he hissed, but kept his voice down to not disturb the others. Very thoughtful. "What were you doing to me?"
"What are you talking about?" I batted my eyes innocently.
"You know!" Boy, he was furious. "You-you w-we-were-"
"What?"
"KISSING ME!"
I stared at him blankly, biting my lip to keep from detonating with laughter.
"Legolas, my Prince, I think those lembas really got to you."
"What??"
I repeated my previous statement, and his face flushed carmine. Poor baby.
"They did no such thing, you boor!"
"That's colorful language." I taunted. "Gee, you sure have a very testy temper." He couldn't think of anything to say, so he just crossed his arms and glared at me. Awww. He was just too cute.
"Well, Leggie, I've had enough with your silly tantrums. I'm going to sleep, and in the morning I hope you will have recovered from your temporary insanity." I crawled back into my sleeping bag and pretended I was sleeping after a few moments, although I definitely could hear some cursing from Legolas' direction.
I came close to suffocating from concealing my giggles that night, when he actually said, "Those lembas DID taste a bit weird to me last night."
:::
"Wake up, Evelyn."
I kept my eyes shut, hoping somehow that it'd wipe out the vexing voice, also.
"Evelyn." Strong hands gently shook me, but still I didn't open my eyes.
"EVELYN."
I groaned as a boot nudged me.
"Wake up this instant or I shall have Master Gimli sing his latest-"
I quickly sat up.
"No need," I smiled tiredly, meeting Pippin's friendly brown eyes. "I'm up."
"That's what I thought," he chuckled.
:::
Over a breakfast of overcooked bacon (you all THINK Sam's a good cook, but he's NOT. Trust me, he's not.) and eggs, I peered at Legolas the whole time. He seemed to be avoiding my stare, always diverting his eyes from me. A sense of satisfaction filled my stomach, much better than the nasty food. It was good to know who was in control, as usual.
Meanwhile, Gandalf had gone into bickering (sigh) AGAIN with Boromir.
"I'm telling you, Gandalf, that the Gap is the safest route!"
"'Tis not! I should rather die of freezing gale than in the clutches of Saruman's fingers!"
"Yeah, I know," I piped in. "He has the GIRLIEST nails!!"
They stared at me. So I resumed my breakfast.
"Uh-anyway, Isengard is not dangerously close to the Gap."
"Boromir, my friend, you are wrong."
I snickered.
"Hey!" Gimli entered the conversation, his rough voice filled with excitement. "We could pass through the mines of Moria!" He made a funny rolling sound with the 'r' of 'Moria'.
"No, Gimli. There are foul creatures in the depth of those mines. It would not be wise," Gandalf said. A forlorn look swept his face. I shuddered involuntarily.
"My cousin Balin would keep us from those creatures. I'm willing to bet my beard they're all gone, anyway."
"Really?" I perked up. "You're serious about your beard?"
"No, not really."
I shrank back to my corner and sulked. What wouldn't I have given for a beardless Gimli!
:::
About twenty minutes later, we all stepped reluctantly out of the cozy little cave. The biting gale stung my neck and my face, and I wrapped the clothes everyone had so generously let me have, one of which was Legolas' dark green cloak. (Gimli had offered me boots, but I politely accepted Aragorn's proposal after seeing the weird things in the dwarf shoe's sole and inhaling the sickening odor)
We trudged along for a million hours to everywhere and nowhere in the deep, bitter snow, and I yearned to stop. I could barely make out anything through the grey haze but a couple of figures. Occasionally, I glanced over at Legolas and envied his Elven lightness. He was always several yards ahead, walking on the snow like it was grass. My eyes hurt from the biting wind and before long, all my clothes were sopping wet from the snow contact. It seemed like I tripped and stumbled infinite times. I walked beside Frodo, who remained somber and not talkative at all. Lines of worry penetrated his smooth skin; even I could see that. A couple of times, I caught a glimpse of the One Ring, hanging so vulnerably around his neck. Every time my eyes rested on the little gold band, a weird feeling jumped in my stomach.
Finally, FINALLY the snow receded from a violent thrashing monster into sparse drifting flakes, and old Gandalf called everyone to a stop. We were about halfway down, he announced proudly.
At that time, I probably looked more like a rotten banana peel than a normal (if you could call me normal) person. My hair was mussed and half- frozen and I couldn't even run my fingers through two inches without hitting a tangle. My clothes looked totally alien. Several huge, heavy cloaks covered me, along with two layers of pants (don't ask) and Aragorn's awkward fitting spare boots. Underneath it all, one could still perhaps see a flying pig or a small part of my pajamas. When Gandalf's words reached my ears, I dropped my pack (yes, they made me carry one) and promptly fell flat on my butt, panting like an ill dog.
Everyone else seemed to have suffered, also. Although the men didn't show it (they have such EGOS!), I could tell that Aragorn and Boromir were thoroughly exhausted. Gandalf looked weary and leaned heavily on his staff. Gimli was kind of neutral, and Legolas was already off somewhere, probably scouting for any enemies with his superkeen eyesight. The hobbits had as much energy as wood chips, with their faces red from exhaustion and their movements slow. They were hunched over some food.
I closed my eyes and breathed in the chilly, clean air slowly. In the movie, the Cahadras had been BEAUTIFUL. Not exhausting. And it looked so easy to walk on, with the snow all prettily white and smooth like marble. I groaned. I didn't even see Legolas creeping up behind me until I heard him clear his throat.
I jumped up and turned around, looking up into his gorgeous blue eyes.
"Yes?" I asked. He took a seat beside me. I was wholly surprised that such a noble Elf would lower his standards to sitting on the snow next to me, and I voiced my thoughts.
He cocked a perfectly angled dark eyebrow. "I am not as much as a noble Elf as you would think, my lady."
"Really."
"Yes, I'm afraid so." A heart-burning smile crossed his lips, and I grinned back, completing a celestial moment. But he suddenly looked uncomfortable.
"Well, was that all you wanted to say to me, Legolas?" I taunted innocently.
"Uh, actually, no."
"Then spill."
"What?"
"Talk."
He talked.
"Last night, I kind of had an extremely peculiar dream. At least, I believe 'twas a dream. Somehow, you were in it." He trailed off uncertainty.
"Ooohhh, really? What was I doing?" I widened my eyes, pretending to be thoroughly intrigued.
"You were kissing me," he replied bluntly. I was surprised at his courage to just blurt it out, but masked my consternation.
"Legolas!" I exclaimed, horrified. I put a hand to my heart, and then to his hand.
"Do you think it means something for us?" My voice was low.
He drew his hand back immediately.
"No!"
I smiled gingerly. "Just checking. But you DO love me, deep down. Anyway, why did you tell me that?"
"I wanted to make sure 'twas a dream, and not reality," he replied. I laughed and playfully swatted at his shoulder.
"Of course not! Legolas, and besides, why would I kiss you? You're all dirty from all that nancing around!" I said. He looked a little offended, and I couldn't suppress my giggles. Obviously, being called 'dirty' was not extremely common with such a vain Elf.
He was about to say something, but Gandalf's commanding voice interrupted the activities of us all.
"We need to move on, for I feel Saruman's eyes on my back, like a hawk," he said.
I blew a raspberry. Just when things were starting to get fun, the old crook had to inform us about his hallucinations. Argh. Oh well. I picked up my bag and stood up, as everyone else was reassembling. Sadly, I noted that Legolas had walked away to gather his stuff.
One by one, we followed old Gandalf in a single order trail. I was between Legolas and Boromir this time, with Legolas right behind me. The snow was falling gently in huge, fluffy flakes that fell softly into his golden hair, and I practically drooled as I stared at his yellow locks hanging so naturally around those broad shoulders.
Man, why couldn't everyday guys wear their hair like that?
And then, I noticed them. The two perfectly made braids hanging from his temples and drifting loosely on his back.
Oh. My. God. Perfection. Made to be spoiled.
It was a totally too-perfect opportunity. My fingers itched. I chastised myself mentally for evening THINKING about it. By this time, they had already started to physically itch and I scratched them, deciding whether to do it or not.
Heck, was I ever going to get another chance like this? The thought popped into my head and before I knew it, my hands were clasped firmly around the left braid and I yanked for all that I was worth-
I'm not even going to tell you how long I was laughing my head off when he released THE most girlish scream that had ever escaped from a male's mouth.
But I CAN tell you that for the rest of the day, good old Gandalf the Grey had unburdened from many heavy shawls and wools and cloths and whatnot-
In other words, my punishment was to hike the rest of the way down the Cahadras in my blue furry slippers and a thin layer of cloud 'jammies.
But hey, it was worth it, right?
:::
A/N - Man, is Evelyn ever going to stop with her crazy stunts? Will Legolas ever be rid of his admirer's actions of passion? Will Aragorn ever wash his hair? Will Gimli ever shave his beard off? Will this story ever have a point? Will the author stop asking these rhetorical questions?
Nope. Not really. ;-)