Disclaimer: See first chapter.
The Fellowship stared at the Balrog. Then at Maeluiwen. Then at the Balrog. Pippin fumbled for something from his pack, which turned out to be a sketchbook.
"Pip, what are you doing?"
Pip mumbled something under his breath, only the words 'Glorfindel' and 'Commission' audible.
Meanwhile, Gandalf's expression had moved from bewilderment, through recognition, and now to anger. He drew out Glamdring, and pointing it at Maeluiwen, he yelled, "Get away from my little sister, you bitch!".
He leapt. Maeluiwen ducked. Mithrandir and the Balrog teetered back and forth, comically, at the edge of the bridge, and then fell. The fellowship rushed to the cliff-edge, and listened.
"What the hell did you think you were doing, young lady?"
"I'm not a baby anymore! Just because I'm the youngest, you think you can boss me around!"
"Well maybe if you didn't have such bloody terrible taste. Remember Durin?"
"This is different. Our love is pure and true."
"Yeah, right."
"Oh, that's it! I am so telling Daddy on you, Olorin…"
The rest was silence.
-----
As they got closer and closer to Lorien, Aragorn was getting more and more nervous.
Legolas was not making things easier by sticking to his principles.
"But why can't you just shoot her?"
"In the back?" Legolas looked offended. "Elves do not shoot people in the back, Aragorn. Do your own dirty work."
"I've tried that." whined Aragorn. "She dodges. You're the only one who could manage to get a shot away that fast. Please? It's my only chance to win back Arwen!"
Legolas grinned. "If I was you, I wouldn't be worried about Arwen. I'd be worried about the fact that you're about to take Maeluiwen straight into the arms of your future Grandmother-in-law."
He watched Aragorn's face turn an interesting shade of puce. The rest of the fellowship were resting, or supposed to be; Boromir and Gimli were discussing which of them liked Elves the least, while the hobbits took turns playing what they were claiming was a Traditional Hobbit Game, 'Trying to Throw Nuts into Maeluiwen's Cleavage'. So far the scores appeared to be Merry: Eight and a Half (one having bounced out again), showing evidence of prior experience with this game, Pippin: Five, somewhat hindered by the large amount of tweenie drool, Sam: Two, his attention only half on the game, mostly because of Frodo: None, too busy muttering to himself to play.
Maeluiwen herself was 'meditating'. Meditation appeared to consist mostly of humming in a manner that made her breasts vibrate in their mithril corset in a rather disturbing way. Merry and Pippin were arguing about whether or not this should affect the scoring.
Aragorn and Legolas's conversation on the ethics of assassination continued.
"Please, Legolas?"
"No."
"Pleeeease?"
"No, Aragorn."
"Pwetty Please with a bottle of Elrond's best Miruvor on top?"
"Now that's just offensive. The Mirkwood Guide to Bribery clearly states a six bottle minimum for a task of this nature, with at least half-payment up front. So unless you've got three bottles on your smelly person, you cheapskate, forget it."
"Fine." Aragorn sulked. "We'll just go onto Lorien, then. If I get into trouble with Celeborn, it'll be all your fault. You are so not invited to my coronation."
"That's a little premature, don't you think? Then again, I have heard that is a common problem among Men…"
"Shut up, Legolas."
-----
Eventually, they managed to get on the move again. Legolas, walking behind Maeluiwen, was becoming increasingly more irritated with the repetitive jingle of her outfit. He was almost reaching for his knives, and ready to forget all about the Guide, when the voice of one of the Galadhrim rang out.
"Who are they, and what do they say?" asked Merry.
"They are Elves, and they say that you breathe so loudly they could shoot you in the dark." Legolas replied. He listened a bit more. "With one arm tied behind their backs." Another pause. "And standing on one leg."
He yelled something back - this was not translated, but even the Hobbits could recognise the tone. "Yeah, right, asshole." is somewhat universal.
Soon several Elves emerged out of the trees.
"Haldir o Lorien" said Aragorn, bowing.
"Hello, Estel. Elrond chuck you out of Imladris again? Right, we got two men, one Elf, one Dwarf, four Halflings, and one bint. You'll need to fill out this form, and this, and these here. Duty Free allowances are 3 quarts wine, 1 quart miruvor, 1 pound pipeweed, for personal use only. Due to recently imposed trade embargoes, only officially sanctioned Galadriel Brand lembas may now be brought in or out of Lorien."
Aragorn listened to this oft-rattled off speech dispassionately, then handed Haldir a small bag of something that went 'clink.'
"Or I could just fill these in for you. Step right this way, folks, and thank you for visiting Lorien."
Sam paused as they filed past. "Excuse me, Mr Elf, sir."
"Yes?" asked Haldir
"I was wondering, that is, if you don't ask me minding, Sir, that is, if it's no problem…"
"Just spit it out, would you?"
"It's just… why aren't any of you wearing shirts?"
-----
The meeting with Galadriel and Celeborn went about as well as could be expected. Maeluiwen jiggled, Galadriel and her handmaidens smirked and giggled, and Celeborn looked furious. How they managed to extricate themselves from the situation without serious harm being done to anyone was still a matter of debate.
The Elves sang laments to Gandalf, ancient songs originally composed for three kettle drums and a xylophone. Legolas would not interpret them, except to say that he felt that 'A Wizards Staff Has a Knob on the End" was not particularly appropriate, no matter how well they claimed to have known him.
It was also Legolas who noticed that Maeluiwen had disappeared.
"Uh.." said Merry
"..Oh" finished Pippin.
"Aragorn's gonna be in trouble!" they chorused.
"Shut up, Hobbits. We can fix this. All I need is half a bottle of kerosene and some duct-tape…"
Aragorn's plotting was interrupted by the looming shadow of Celeborn.
"Estel." he said, his tone dark.
"Oh, hello, uh, Grandpa?" said Aragorn, hopefully.
Celeborn raised an eyebrow. "I have no wish to see blood spilled in Lorien. But if you do not get that thing out of my forest and away from my wife before dawn, you will not live to be King. Do I make myself quite clear?"
Aragorn nodded meekly.
"Good." He strode off. Legolas and Gimli sniggered.
"Oh, shut up, all of you."
-----
In a talan draped, for some reason, with fine silks, a scene was unfolding, of the type that Glorfindel would probably be upset he wasn't there to witness, or at least sell tickets to.
"My fairest Lady, your beauty shines brighter than the sun, more glorious than the moon, more delicate than the touch of starlight upon the elanor. I can totally see where your granddaughter gets it from."
"Rest here, Maeluiwen, and allow me to comfort you. For you are surely weary with sorrow and much toil."
The remainder consisted mostly of giggling, jiggling, and the jingle of mithril undergarments. Luckily for Aragorn, however, telain tend to be open-plan; Samwise proved his worth that day by demonstrating his skill at the hobbit art of Rodeo; a loop of Elvish rope went around Maeluiwen's foot, and Boromir, Aragorn, and Gimli took hold and pulled.
The result was rather spectacular, even if it did end up exposing more of Maeluiwen then any of them really wanted to see. A shower of metal lingerie accompanied her fall. Bruised, half-naked, and angrier than a rabid mongoose, their unwilling companion (even if most of the unwillingness was on the rest of the Fellowship's behalf), hung by one ankle from the tallest branch they'd been able to find.
Legolas did make them cut her down eventually, though. Spoilsport.
-----
"Aragorn, no."
"But…"
"No. Not while she's in the same boat as Frodo." Legolas shook his head. "Honestly. Think, would you? Besides, she can probably swim. What's got you in such a state?"
"Did you see the gift she received from Galadriel?" asked Aragorn. "I'm a dead man."
"Hmmph." said Legolas. "Red satin and lace, not very classy, in my opinion. I've always preferred classic white, myself. My mother runs a little business on the side… Gwalothiel's Secret. I'm sure you've seen the brochures."
Merry and Pippin, listening in on this conversation from the boat they were sharing with Boromir, nodded happily. Merry in fact had every Gwalothiel's Secret catalogue published for the last twenty years, and had once tried to sell his sister to Bill Ferny in exchange for one of their calendars.
"I'm doomed." moaned Aragorn.
"…so anyway, two of my sisters both wanted to be Miss Rhîw, and it was just causing so much strife… sorry, did you say something?"
"Never mind."
Maeluiwen, meanwhile, fingered Galadriel's gift with a little smile on her face, hummed, and jiggled.
A/N: Shirtless Haldir. Don't tell me I never did anything for you.
The Fellowship stared at the Balrog. Then at Maeluiwen. Then at the Balrog. Pippin fumbled for something from his pack, which turned out to be a sketchbook.
"Pip, what are you doing?"
Pip mumbled something under his breath, only the words 'Glorfindel' and 'Commission' audible.
Meanwhile, Gandalf's expression had moved from bewilderment, through recognition, and now to anger. He drew out Glamdring, and pointing it at Maeluiwen, he yelled, "Get away from my little sister, you bitch!".
He leapt. Maeluiwen ducked. Mithrandir and the Balrog teetered back and forth, comically, at the edge of the bridge, and then fell. The fellowship rushed to the cliff-edge, and listened.
"What the hell did you think you were doing, young lady?"
"I'm not a baby anymore! Just because I'm the youngest, you think you can boss me around!"
"Well maybe if you didn't have such bloody terrible taste. Remember Durin?"
"This is different. Our love is pure and true."
"Yeah, right."
"Oh, that's it! I am so telling Daddy on you, Olorin…"
The rest was silence.
-----
As they got closer and closer to Lorien, Aragorn was getting more and more nervous.
Legolas was not making things easier by sticking to his principles.
"But why can't you just shoot her?"
"In the back?" Legolas looked offended. "Elves do not shoot people in the back, Aragorn. Do your own dirty work."
"I've tried that." whined Aragorn. "She dodges. You're the only one who could manage to get a shot away that fast. Please? It's my only chance to win back Arwen!"
Legolas grinned. "If I was you, I wouldn't be worried about Arwen. I'd be worried about the fact that you're about to take Maeluiwen straight into the arms of your future Grandmother-in-law."
He watched Aragorn's face turn an interesting shade of puce. The rest of the fellowship were resting, or supposed to be; Boromir and Gimli were discussing which of them liked Elves the least, while the hobbits took turns playing what they were claiming was a Traditional Hobbit Game, 'Trying to Throw Nuts into Maeluiwen's Cleavage'. So far the scores appeared to be Merry: Eight and a Half (one having bounced out again), showing evidence of prior experience with this game, Pippin: Five, somewhat hindered by the large amount of tweenie drool, Sam: Two, his attention only half on the game, mostly because of Frodo: None, too busy muttering to himself to play.
Maeluiwen herself was 'meditating'. Meditation appeared to consist mostly of humming in a manner that made her breasts vibrate in their mithril corset in a rather disturbing way. Merry and Pippin were arguing about whether or not this should affect the scoring.
Aragorn and Legolas's conversation on the ethics of assassination continued.
"Please, Legolas?"
"No."
"Pleeeease?"
"No, Aragorn."
"Pwetty Please with a bottle of Elrond's best Miruvor on top?"
"Now that's just offensive. The Mirkwood Guide to Bribery clearly states a six bottle minimum for a task of this nature, with at least half-payment up front. So unless you've got three bottles on your smelly person, you cheapskate, forget it."
"Fine." Aragorn sulked. "We'll just go onto Lorien, then. If I get into trouble with Celeborn, it'll be all your fault. You are so not invited to my coronation."
"That's a little premature, don't you think? Then again, I have heard that is a common problem among Men…"
"Shut up, Legolas."
-----
Eventually, they managed to get on the move again. Legolas, walking behind Maeluiwen, was becoming increasingly more irritated with the repetitive jingle of her outfit. He was almost reaching for his knives, and ready to forget all about the Guide, when the voice of one of the Galadhrim rang out.
"Who are they, and what do they say?" asked Merry.
"They are Elves, and they say that you breathe so loudly they could shoot you in the dark." Legolas replied. He listened a bit more. "With one arm tied behind their backs." Another pause. "And standing on one leg."
He yelled something back - this was not translated, but even the Hobbits could recognise the tone. "Yeah, right, asshole." is somewhat universal.
Soon several Elves emerged out of the trees.
"Haldir o Lorien" said Aragorn, bowing.
"Hello, Estel. Elrond chuck you out of Imladris again? Right, we got two men, one Elf, one Dwarf, four Halflings, and one bint. You'll need to fill out this form, and this, and these here. Duty Free allowances are 3 quarts wine, 1 quart miruvor, 1 pound pipeweed, for personal use only. Due to recently imposed trade embargoes, only officially sanctioned Galadriel Brand lembas may now be brought in or out of Lorien."
Aragorn listened to this oft-rattled off speech dispassionately, then handed Haldir a small bag of something that went 'clink.'
"Or I could just fill these in for you. Step right this way, folks, and thank you for visiting Lorien."
Sam paused as they filed past. "Excuse me, Mr Elf, sir."
"Yes?" asked Haldir
"I was wondering, that is, if you don't ask me minding, Sir, that is, if it's no problem…"
"Just spit it out, would you?"
"It's just… why aren't any of you wearing shirts?"
-----
The meeting with Galadriel and Celeborn went about as well as could be expected. Maeluiwen jiggled, Galadriel and her handmaidens smirked and giggled, and Celeborn looked furious. How they managed to extricate themselves from the situation without serious harm being done to anyone was still a matter of debate.
The Elves sang laments to Gandalf, ancient songs originally composed for three kettle drums and a xylophone. Legolas would not interpret them, except to say that he felt that 'A Wizards Staff Has a Knob on the End" was not particularly appropriate, no matter how well they claimed to have known him.
It was also Legolas who noticed that Maeluiwen had disappeared.
"Uh.." said Merry
"..Oh" finished Pippin.
"Aragorn's gonna be in trouble!" they chorused.
"Shut up, Hobbits. We can fix this. All I need is half a bottle of kerosene and some duct-tape…"
Aragorn's plotting was interrupted by the looming shadow of Celeborn.
"Estel." he said, his tone dark.
"Oh, hello, uh, Grandpa?" said Aragorn, hopefully.
Celeborn raised an eyebrow. "I have no wish to see blood spilled in Lorien. But if you do not get that thing out of my forest and away from my wife before dawn, you will not live to be King. Do I make myself quite clear?"
Aragorn nodded meekly.
"Good." He strode off. Legolas and Gimli sniggered.
"Oh, shut up, all of you."
-----
In a talan draped, for some reason, with fine silks, a scene was unfolding, of the type that Glorfindel would probably be upset he wasn't there to witness, or at least sell tickets to.
"My fairest Lady, your beauty shines brighter than the sun, more glorious than the moon, more delicate than the touch of starlight upon the elanor. I can totally see where your granddaughter gets it from."
"Rest here, Maeluiwen, and allow me to comfort you. For you are surely weary with sorrow and much toil."
The remainder consisted mostly of giggling, jiggling, and the jingle of mithril undergarments. Luckily for Aragorn, however, telain tend to be open-plan; Samwise proved his worth that day by demonstrating his skill at the hobbit art of Rodeo; a loop of Elvish rope went around Maeluiwen's foot, and Boromir, Aragorn, and Gimli took hold and pulled.
The result was rather spectacular, even if it did end up exposing more of Maeluiwen then any of them really wanted to see. A shower of metal lingerie accompanied her fall. Bruised, half-naked, and angrier than a rabid mongoose, their unwilling companion (even if most of the unwillingness was on the rest of the Fellowship's behalf), hung by one ankle from the tallest branch they'd been able to find.
Legolas did make them cut her down eventually, though. Spoilsport.
-----
"Aragorn, no."
"But…"
"No. Not while she's in the same boat as Frodo." Legolas shook his head. "Honestly. Think, would you? Besides, she can probably swim. What's got you in such a state?"
"Did you see the gift she received from Galadriel?" asked Aragorn. "I'm a dead man."
"Hmmph." said Legolas. "Red satin and lace, not very classy, in my opinion. I've always preferred classic white, myself. My mother runs a little business on the side… Gwalothiel's Secret. I'm sure you've seen the brochures."
Merry and Pippin, listening in on this conversation from the boat they were sharing with Boromir, nodded happily. Merry in fact had every Gwalothiel's Secret catalogue published for the last twenty years, and had once tried to sell his sister to Bill Ferny in exchange for one of their calendars.
"I'm doomed." moaned Aragorn.
"…so anyway, two of my sisters both wanted to be Miss Rhîw, and it was just causing so much strife… sorry, did you say something?"
"Never mind."
Maeluiwen, meanwhile, fingered Galadriel's gift with a little smile on her face, hummed, and jiggled.
A/N: Shirtless Haldir. Don't tell me I never did anything for you.