Disclaimer: I am not Tolkien, or I would be dead. Therefore, I own
NOTHING! *cries *
A/N: Hello! Sorry for the kind of delay, but I had a bad week. You know, when you just feel like there's no point to anything, and questioning life and crap? Well, anyways, I didn't feel like making myself nor other people more miserable, ie Legolas, so I didn't write for a while. BUT HERE IT IS! Oh, and tomorrow's my birthday! So, let's do a hobbit-type thing! I'll give YOU a present! MY FIC! *hands over new chapter * YAY! But, I also expect something in return . . .REVIEWS! So, please review, I love you for it!
I have a note from Princess-yumin for all of you who read her fic! Here is her note:
"I'm right now swamped. My schedule includes something for every night. Mondays I have Piano Theory and driving school, Tuesday I have driving lessons, Wednesdays I have in-class driving lessons, Thursdays I have Aqualeaders (which teaches you how to teach little kids how to swim), Fridays I have to work, Saturday I work, Sunday I junior instruct at the pool and have practical pianos lessons. Top that off with being on Student Council and the School's newspaper editor, upcoming finals, seminars, timed essay writing and final projects, I'm one busy person. So here's the deal to the readers: I'll have to change my updating intervals to once every two weeks, but they'll get a longer chapter instead. It's much easier that way because when I'm in the mood to write, I can really get going. And if I ever get the odd chance, there may be some chapters in between those two weeks. And this arrangement will only last for about a month or so, until I'm done school for the year, exams and all, which is on June 27. I really tried to avoid doing this, but right now it's incredibly important for me to focus on school, especially because of exams. I know I promised never to not update infrequently, but circumstances changed. I didn't think that my driving school would begin now, because of an issue with not enough students, but there were enough, and so I have in total seven hours of driving school a week. (3 in class on Monday and Wednesday, one in the car on Tuesdays) And that's the time I normally write in. I really do apologize, I feel terrible for doing this. It might sound melodramtic, but I feel like I betrayed readers and am very guilty at the moment.... -Tiffany/princess_yumin" So, yes. She is not betraying her readers! We love her! Right? *resounding yes * So, yes, that's just for all of you who read her fic Colour of Distress.
* * *
Legolas' limp body skidded over the dungeon floor, this time not in his cell. He cringed as his burns and other wounds scraped over the rough stone. Darkness crept back into the corners of his eyes, his mind began to blur. The orc guard awakened him crudely again.
He curled up into a defensive ball. Surely Nifien could see him. Surely she could see his wounds and his torment. He hated himself for it, but he found himself thinking, why isn't she helping me, why doesn't she say something?
I can't be that weak. I can get on on my own.
But she could at least help me. They haven't touched her yet.
And so she should remain thus.
Legolas' sharp, but dulling senses picked up the familiar, foreboding sound of Saruman's padding feet. He curled tighter, wanting to vanish forever, never wanting to have to be that strong again.
"They're gone little elf. And you are still here."
A powerful kick caught him in his side. Air gushed from his lungs. He felt himself retch, and his lips spilt forth a clear liquid onto the ground. The poison hadn't lost its effect.
"Why are you still here, little elf?" Saruman bent down and snatched him by his long, golden hair, which had lost its shimmer, and hauled him to his feet. "You could speak back there, elfling, now speak now!"
Legolas whimpered. Two whips lashed out from either side of him, curling and licking at his legs, drawing back stained with crimson, and lashing out again. His leggings ripped and tore, and his pale skin lay open to the stinging bite.
"I don't want to set eyes upon you any longer! You filthy, snivelling, little insignificant maggot."
Legolas shut his eyes, praying that it would all stop.
He's wrong, he's wrong . . .
"Did you think you were doing the right thing? Were you trying to be heroic?" He struck Legolas across the face with an open hand. "Patriotic?" he shouted, and catching Legolas with a closed fist. He rattled him brutally as the elf's eyes began to droop, and Legolas found himself alarmingly awake again.
"I wanted you away from here! I couldn't stand to look at your ugly face, your oversized figure, hear your hideous voice. You should have been gone. There should be one more vacant chamber down here. Not some worthless, nothing of an elf, whimpering pathetically, pleading for attention. Pleading for someone to take him home."
Another blow caught Legolas in the face.
He's lying, he's lying, it's all just some trick . . .
"I can see your mind little elf. I can see you trying to deny it. Trying to deny all that is true. You really are a wretched little brat, aren't you."
Don't listen, shut him out.
Saruman laughed, and it sent shivers down Legolas' spine. "You must loath yourself! How could anyone love you? How could anyone ever love you repulsive, hideous, pathetic, weak, beast of a thing!"
Saruman tossed Legolas' dangerously light figure. He hit the wall hard, and slumped to the floor.
"Do you think anyone cares what happens to you down here?" The whips were still groping at his legs. "Do you think anyone would care if you died? Your own father just left now, without even a second glance at you!" A stray lash caught Legolas across his battered face. "If any of them loved you, you wouldn't be here right now."
He loves me, he loves me, he doesn't hate me, he loves me . . .
Legolas clapped his hands over his ears, shut his eyes, clamped shut his mouth. Saruman raved on, his cunning voice delving beneath Legolas' skin, piercing his heart, piercing his thoughts. Tears began to swell in the corners of his eyes. He tried to deny it, tried to shut him out.
But he couldn't just stop listening. His heart was gentle; far too tender for those cruel words shot at him.
* * *
Haldir wrapped his arm around the elf lord's shoulders. The elves sat in stunned silence, brooding on their grief, trying not to think. Haldir had never seen Thranduil cry. He had never seen him loose his composure. It startled him, and he wished dearly he didn't have to cry like that. He himself was only just barely clinging to his self-control.
"We're going to help him. He's going to be alright." Haldir's voice was quiet, barely above a whisper. He wasn't looking at Thranduil; he was staring off into space, blocking emotion from his head. "Legolas is strong." He was reassuring more himself than Thranduil, but it was meant for them both.
It was true. He was amazed at Legolas' determination. What might have been running through that elf's head he didn't know, but he admired it. He knew he himself would never have been able to withstand what was done to his friend.
"I should have been able to help him," Thranduil sighed. "He shouldn't be locked away in that dreary place still."
"It's not your fault, Thranduil. You did what was right." Haldir knew it was true, that they had done the right thing. But he wished more than anything that they had Legolas with them right then. "Come now, let's return to Lorien, ere darkness falls."
The small party of elves picked themselves up, and continued wearily on through the trees, listening to them whisper and sigh pityingly as the runners returned. They reached out to embrace the elves, but they shunned the branches. There was only one who truly deserved comfort now.
* * *
He had never been a songwriter, not like Bilbo and the hobbits. But inspiration seemed to be overflowing in his mind, even at the worst of times.
"Grey leaves are budding from grey trees, so old
Their bark is feeble, their roots are starving
Merciless breezes, so ancient and cold,
Sweep by the trees, deep riverbeds carving.
Deep ocean alike to deep riverbed
Lifeless and dark and its waves still as death
Land stays untamed by the hands of the dead
The hard rain's their tears, the wind is their breath
For ghosts make no paths through bush, nor on earth
Their ships set sail and yet drift without trace
Thus none can find them and comfort their worth
Nor can they return each other's embrace
A sigh chills the land, so grey and dying;
Land of a heart, lonely and crying."
Legolas smiled. It had turned out okay.
Why are you smiling?
His mouth dropped into a frown again. Huddled against the wall, without chains, without being locked away. Saruman knew there was no hope of him escaping. Not with his body mutilated as it was. But even if he did dare to run, he would be stopped; and then punished.
He glanced down at his legs. Most of the wounds had stopped bleeding. A thin crust of dried blood encased his legs from his feet to his thighs. It would be useless and painful to try and walk. But none of his injuries pained him. Not his broken hand, bruised and broken ribs, slashed skin. He was at his limit.
They couldn't hurt him anymore.
He laughed quietly to himself. It didn't matter what they did to him now. His face was slashed down one side. Dark circles circled his empty eyes from lack of sleep. Everything about him was fading. Perhaps his life was, but he took no notice. It didn't matter.
It may have sounded silly, had he spoken to Aragorn, but he was ugly. He was broken, weak, mutilated, disgraceful, ugly. Even if he did return home, he would be looked down upon, shamed for the rest of his life. Haunted forever by his past, and unaccepted by his own kind. The arrogance of the elves was above the race of men and dwarves.
He leaned his head back against the wall. As long as he was here, it would do him good to sleep.
* * *
Haldir moved silently through the trees. Night had fallen long ago, but his eyes still functioned well. Someone was moving up ahead. They hadn't heard him yet, and it was well that way. He wished to see who the person was ere they could see him.
They were nearing the edge of the woods. Haldir could tell it was an elf, and he had no sense of danger or evil. But he was curious as to where they were going.
Just as the woods came to their end, the elf turned around, and Haldir could see his face. Fair and golden-haired, with only a slight glimmer of surprise in those eyes. He was reminded brutally of his suffering friend.
"Mae govannen, Haldir," Thranduil sighed.
"Where are you going?"
Thranduil's face was weary. "I know what I must do now. And I must do it alone."
Haldir's mind clicked. "You're going to Isenguard."
Thranduil nodded. "But do not worry, I am not about to give up my kingdom."
Haldir had known that. Thranduil was a good ruler, and would never do that to his own people. But he knew that he was about to do something drastic. "You may go alone. But I will follow you."
The elf-lord sighed, frustrated. "I would prefer to go about this alone."
"That is what you may prefer, but I guarantee you, you will be better off in company."
"It is hopeless to argue with you, isn't it." Thranduil smiled slightly. "You're so much like him."
A moment of melancholy silence lapsed.
"Come now. Let us go."
As the two elves departed Lothlorien, Galadriel turned away from her mirror. A single tear rolled down her fair cheek.
"Namarie, Thranduil."
* * *
Mwahahahahahaha. Bit of foreshadowing there. Anyways, how'd you like it? Please give me a birthday present and review! Flames, whatever, I don't care. ANYTHING! I don't care what bad things you say about my story, but I love to hear it anyways. REVIEW! Thank you very, very, very much to goblz and merrylyn, I wuv oo! *scares everybody away * Hey, no COME BACK!
Melissa greenleaf: Yay, cookies! *munches on cookie * Mm, there should be a Legolas shaped cookie mould.
The Dark Rogue: Hm, I almost spelt your name The Dark Rouge . . .that'd be kind of like saying The Crimson. ANYWAYS! Yes, I do have messenger. Add me. You can get my email from looking at my little bio, etc on here.
Legolasluver: Yay, destroy mankind! *does Frodo's freaky little hobbit/chicken dance * Dumb Frodo. He's a snob in the book and just annoying in the movie. Actually, he's okay in the movie, but he still bugs me.
Lady of Dreams: Onomatopoeias are the BEST! I wrote this poem once, and every second line was just onomatopoeias. I messed around with the font too, and that's the coolest thing about it. Anyways, yes, Saruman's death seems to be a trend of desire here. Mwaha. Still pondering over where and when it should happen. Oh, SPEAKING of Saruman's death, I know how he dies in the movie now! ANYONE WHO DOESN'T WANT TO KNOW, DON'T READ THIS: Wormtongue slits his neck then shoves him over Orthanc. The Legolas shoots an arrow that goes whizzing above Wormtongue, who laughs at Legolas because he missed. Then the arrow comes back down and impales Wormtongue's skull.
Kate: Mel Gibson (who's real name is Mel Columcile Gerard Gibson), in the Patriot, is, well, a duck. It's a bit of an inside joke but here's the thing: when Heath Ledger dies (conspiracy of the hot guys, they all die), Mel Gibson's looking at him, and kind of bites his lip or sucks it in or something and his eyebrows go up and he looks like a duck. Hehe.
Ankhesanamun: WHAT? Legolas ISN'T your favourite!? *shouts * . . .Meh, that's okay. I understand. And PETE, you say. Hm, best I don't get involved with the, eh?
Erhothwen: Other than band-aids, you know what else works good? *smiles hugely at a very terrified looking Legolas * Kissing them better! *Legolas runs away screaming *
Lady of the Forest: *takes plushie * Yay, another one to add to my collection! *opens closet and an avalanche of Legolas plushies crush her *
Wandering-Ranger: YAY! MORE COOKIES! Me like cookies!
Lia Strife: Well, for one thing, Saruman would probably sick a hell of a lot of orcs on them and kill them all, then go for Mirkwood. =p But, then again, you like character death, you would have enjoyed that . . .oh well, to each her own!
YAY! TOMORROW'S MY BIRTHDAY! *continues doing freaky Frodo hobbit/chicken dance * REVIEW SO I CAN BE HAPPY! I WUV OO!
Namarie.
~Searcher of Souls~
A/N: Hello! Sorry for the kind of delay, but I had a bad week. You know, when you just feel like there's no point to anything, and questioning life and crap? Well, anyways, I didn't feel like making myself nor other people more miserable, ie Legolas, so I didn't write for a while. BUT HERE IT IS! Oh, and tomorrow's my birthday! So, let's do a hobbit-type thing! I'll give YOU a present! MY FIC! *hands over new chapter * YAY! But, I also expect something in return . . .REVIEWS! So, please review, I love you for it!
I have a note from Princess-yumin for all of you who read her fic! Here is her note:
"I'm right now swamped. My schedule includes something for every night. Mondays I have Piano Theory and driving school, Tuesday I have driving lessons, Wednesdays I have in-class driving lessons, Thursdays I have Aqualeaders (which teaches you how to teach little kids how to swim), Fridays I have to work, Saturday I work, Sunday I junior instruct at the pool and have practical pianos lessons. Top that off with being on Student Council and the School's newspaper editor, upcoming finals, seminars, timed essay writing and final projects, I'm one busy person. So here's the deal to the readers: I'll have to change my updating intervals to once every two weeks, but they'll get a longer chapter instead. It's much easier that way because when I'm in the mood to write, I can really get going. And if I ever get the odd chance, there may be some chapters in between those two weeks. And this arrangement will only last for about a month or so, until I'm done school for the year, exams and all, which is on June 27. I really tried to avoid doing this, but right now it's incredibly important for me to focus on school, especially because of exams. I know I promised never to not update infrequently, but circumstances changed. I didn't think that my driving school would begin now, because of an issue with not enough students, but there were enough, and so I have in total seven hours of driving school a week. (3 in class on Monday and Wednesday, one in the car on Tuesdays) And that's the time I normally write in. I really do apologize, I feel terrible for doing this. It might sound melodramtic, but I feel like I betrayed readers and am very guilty at the moment.... -Tiffany/princess_yumin" So, yes. She is not betraying her readers! We love her! Right? *resounding yes * So, yes, that's just for all of you who read her fic Colour of Distress.
* * *
Legolas' limp body skidded over the dungeon floor, this time not in his cell. He cringed as his burns and other wounds scraped over the rough stone. Darkness crept back into the corners of his eyes, his mind began to blur. The orc guard awakened him crudely again.
He curled up into a defensive ball. Surely Nifien could see him. Surely she could see his wounds and his torment. He hated himself for it, but he found himself thinking, why isn't she helping me, why doesn't she say something?
I can't be that weak. I can get on on my own.
But she could at least help me. They haven't touched her yet.
And so she should remain thus.
Legolas' sharp, but dulling senses picked up the familiar, foreboding sound of Saruman's padding feet. He curled tighter, wanting to vanish forever, never wanting to have to be that strong again.
"They're gone little elf. And you are still here."
A powerful kick caught him in his side. Air gushed from his lungs. He felt himself retch, and his lips spilt forth a clear liquid onto the ground. The poison hadn't lost its effect.
"Why are you still here, little elf?" Saruman bent down and snatched him by his long, golden hair, which had lost its shimmer, and hauled him to his feet. "You could speak back there, elfling, now speak now!"
Legolas whimpered. Two whips lashed out from either side of him, curling and licking at his legs, drawing back stained with crimson, and lashing out again. His leggings ripped and tore, and his pale skin lay open to the stinging bite.
"I don't want to set eyes upon you any longer! You filthy, snivelling, little insignificant maggot."
Legolas shut his eyes, praying that it would all stop.
He's wrong, he's wrong . . .
"Did you think you were doing the right thing? Were you trying to be heroic?" He struck Legolas across the face with an open hand. "Patriotic?" he shouted, and catching Legolas with a closed fist. He rattled him brutally as the elf's eyes began to droop, and Legolas found himself alarmingly awake again.
"I wanted you away from here! I couldn't stand to look at your ugly face, your oversized figure, hear your hideous voice. You should have been gone. There should be one more vacant chamber down here. Not some worthless, nothing of an elf, whimpering pathetically, pleading for attention. Pleading for someone to take him home."
Another blow caught Legolas in the face.
He's lying, he's lying, it's all just some trick . . .
"I can see your mind little elf. I can see you trying to deny it. Trying to deny all that is true. You really are a wretched little brat, aren't you."
Don't listen, shut him out.
Saruman laughed, and it sent shivers down Legolas' spine. "You must loath yourself! How could anyone love you? How could anyone ever love you repulsive, hideous, pathetic, weak, beast of a thing!"
Saruman tossed Legolas' dangerously light figure. He hit the wall hard, and slumped to the floor.
"Do you think anyone cares what happens to you down here?" The whips were still groping at his legs. "Do you think anyone would care if you died? Your own father just left now, without even a second glance at you!" A stray lash caught Legolas across his battered face. "If any of them loved you, you wouldn't be here right now."
He loves me, he loves me, he doesn't hate me, he loves me . . .
Legolas clapped his hands over his ears, shut his eyes, clamped shut his mouth. Saruman raved on, his cunning voice delving beneath Legolas' skin, piercing his heart, piercing his thoughts. Tears began to swell in the corners of his eyes. He tried to deny it, tried to shut him out.
But he couldn't just stop listening. His heart was gentle; far too tender for those cruel words shot at him.
* * *
Haldir wrapped his arm around the elf lord's shoulders. The elves sat in stunned silence, brooding on their grief, trying not to think. Haldir had never seen Thranduil cry. He had never seen him loose his composure. It startled him, and he wished dearly he didn't have to cry like that. He himself was only just barely clinging to his self-control.
"We're going to help him. He's going to be alright." Haldir's voice was quiet, barely above a whisper. He wasn't looking at Thranduil; he was staring off into space, blocking emotion from his head. "Legolas is strong." He was reassuring more himself than Thranduil, but it was meant for them both.
It was true. He was amazed at Legolas' determination. What might have been running through that elf's head he didn't know, but he admired it. He knew he himself would never have been able to withstand what was done to his friend.
"I should have been able to help him," Thranduil sighed. "He shouldn't be locked away in that dreary place still."
"It's not your fault, Thranduil. You did what was right." Haldir knew it was true, that they had done the right thing. But he wished more than anything that they had Legolas with them right then. "Come now, let's return to Lorien, ere darkness falls."
The small party of elves picked themselves up, and continued wearily on through the trees, listening to them whisper and sigh pityingly as the runners returned. They reached out to embrace the elves, but they shunned the branches. There was only one who truly deserved comfort now.
* * *
He had never been a songwriter, not like Bilbo and the hobbits. But inspiration seemed to be overflowing in his mind, even at the worst of times.
"Grey leaves are budding from grey trees, so old
Their bark is feeble, their roots are starving
Merciless breezes, so ancient and cold,
Sweep by the trees, deep riverbeds carving.
Deep ocean alike to deep riverbed
Lifeless and dark and its waves still as death
Land stays untamed by the hands of the dead
The hard rain's their tears, the wind is their breath
For ghosts make no paths through bush, nor on earth
Their ships set sail and yet drift without trace
Thus none can find them and comfort their worth
Nor can they return each other's embrace
A sigh chills the land, so grey and dying;
Land of a heart, lonely and crying."
Legolas smiled. It had turned out okay.
Why are you smiling?
His mouth dropped into a frown again. Huddled against the wall, without chains, without being locked away. Saruman knew there was no hope of him escaping. Not with his body mutilated as it was. But even if he did dare to run, he would be stopped; and then punished.
He glanced down at his legs. Most of the wounds had stopped bleeding. A thin crust of dried blood encased his legs from his feet to his thighs. It would be useless and painful to try and walk. But none of his injuries pained him. Not his broken hand, bruised and broken ribs, slashed skin. He was at his limit.
They couldn't hurt him anymore.
He laughed quietly to himself. It didn't matter what they did to him now. His face was slashed down one side. Dark circles circled his empty eyes from lack of sleep. Everything about him was fading. Perhaps his life was, but he took no notice. It didn't matter.
It may have sounded silly, had he spoken to Aragorn, but he was ugly. He was broken, weak, mutilated, disgraceful, ugly. Even if he did return home, he would be looked down upon, shamed for the rest of his life. Haunted forever by his past, and unaccepted by his own kind. The arrogance of the elves was above the race of men and dwarves.
He leaned his head back against the wall. As long as he was here, it would do him good to sleep.
* * *
Haldir moved silently through the trees. Night had fallen long ago, but his eyes still functioned well. Someone was moving up ahead. They hadn't heard him yet, and it was well that way. He wished to see who the person was ere they could see him.
They were nearing the edge of the woods. Haldir could tell it was an elf, and he had no sense of danger or evil. But he was curious as to where they were going.
Just as the woods came to their end, the elf turned around, and Haldir could see his face. Fair and golden-haired, with only a slight glimmer of surprise in those eyes. He was reminded brutally of his suffering friend.
"Mae govannen, Haldir," Thranduil sighed.
"Where are you going?"
Thranduil's face was weary. "I know what I must do now. And I must do it alone."
Haldir's mind clicked. "You're going to Isenguard."
Thranduil nodded. "But do not worry, I am not about to give up my kingdom."
Haldir had known that. Thranduil was a good ruler, and would never do that to his own people. But he knew that he was about to do something drastic. "You may go alone. But I will follow you."
The elf-lord sighed, frustrated. "I would prefer to go about this alone."
"That is what you may prefer, but I guarantee you, you will be better off in company."
"It is hopeless to argue with you, isn't it." Thranduil smiled slightly. "You're so much like him."
A moment of melancholy silence lapsed.
"Come now. Let us go."
As the two elves departed Lothlorien, Galadriel turned away from her mirror. A single tear rolled down her fair cheek.
"Namarie, Thranduil."
* * *
Mwahahahahahaha. Bit of foreshadowing there. Anyways, how'd you like it? Please give me a birthday present and review! Flames, whatever, I don't care. ANYTHING! I don't care what bad things you say about my story, but I love to hear it anyways. REVIEW! Thank you very, very, very much to goblz and merrylyn, I wuv oo! *scares everybody away * Hey, no COME BACK!
Melissa greenleaf: Yay, cookies! *munches on cookie * Mm, there should be a Legolas shaped cookie mould.
The Dark Rogue: Hm, I almost spelt your name The Dark Rouge . . .that'd be kind of like saying The Crimson. ANYWAYS! Yes, I do have messenger. Add me. You can get my email from looking at my little bio, etc on here.
Legolasluver: Yay, destroy mankind! *does Frodo's freaky little hobbit/chicken dance * Dumb Frodo. He's a snob in the book and just annoying in the movie. Actually, he's okay in the movie, but he still bugs me.
Lady of Dreams: Onomatopoeias are the BEST! I wrote this poem once, and every second line was just onomatopoeias. I messed around with the font too, and that's the coolest thing about it. Anyways, yes, Saruman's death seems to be a trend of desire here. Mwaha. Still pondering over where and when it should happen. Oh, SPEAKING of Saruman's death, I know how he dies in the movie now! ANYONE WHO DOESN'T WANT TO KNOW, DON'T READ THIS: Wormtongue slits his neck then shoves him over Orthanc. The Legolas shoots an arrow that goes whizzing above Wormtongue, who laughs at Legolas because he missed. Then the arrow comes back down and impales Wormtongue's skull.
Kate: Mel Gibson (who's real name is Mel Columcile Gerard Gibson), in the Patriot, is, well, a duck. It's a bit of an inside joke but here's the thing: when Heath Ledger dies (conspiracy of the hot guys, they all die), Mel Gibson's looking at him, and kind of bites his lip or sucks it in or something and his eyebrows go up and he looks like a duck. Hehe.
Ankhesanamun: WHAT? Legolas ISN'T your favourite!? *shouts * . . .Meh, that's okay. I understand. And PETE, you say. Hm, best I don't get involved with the, eh?
Erhothwen: Other than band-aids, you know what else works good? *smiles hugely at a very terrified looking Legolas * Kissing them better! *Legolas runs away screaming *
Lady of the Forest: *takes plushie * Yay, another one to add to my collection! *opens closet and an avalanche of Legolas plushies crush her *
Wandering-Ranger: YAY! MORE COOKIES! Me like cookies!
Lia Strife: Well, for one thing, Saruman would probably sick a hell of a lot of orcs on them and kill them all, then go for Mirkwood. =p But, then again, you like character death, you would have enjoyed that . . .oh well, to each her own!
YAY! TOMORROW'S MY BIRTHDAY! *continues doing freaky Frodo hobbit/chicken dance * REVIEW SO I CAN BE HAPPY! I WUV OO!
Namarie.
~Searcher of Souls~