"Ouch You brut!"
The Haradrim yelled of the millionth time.
"Well if you
would just be still!" Legolas was still trying to get the knots out
of her hair. With a frustrated sigh, he put his hand on his hip,
brush in hand, and eyed her critically. "Honestly, have you EVER
brushed this mass of tangles?" When she just grunted, he took that
as a no.
"I have better things to do than pamper myself
like some sissy elf." She said with a dismissive wave of her hand.
"Honesty," she mocked him, and he did not appreciate that.
"Look, you stupid, dirty human, you have no right to speak
to me that way. And frankly, I have had quite enough of your
behavior." This time his voice was strong and commanding. He was
truly fed up. To add to his annoyance, she stood and curtsied low.
"Forgive me, sire." And while she was still bent over, he
saw her shoulders quiver and her breath coming in short bursts of
suppressed laughter.
Legolas's eyes blazed, "You will NOT
mock me again!" She then stood and looked him straight in the eye,
her lips still quirked.
"I really thought we were past
this." She sighed. "You are such a brat." Legolas bit back a
retort. Somehow he knew he would only dig himself deeper.
"Fine
Have it your way." Feigning temporary defeat, he stuck his hand
out. She eyed him curiously, an eyebrow raised, before spitting in
her hand and reaching out to clasp his.
Legolas pulled his
jerked his hand away and jumped back, holding his it protectively to
his chest. "What are you DOING?" His eyes darted from her face to
her hand, still dripping with the saliva from her mouth. His face
crinkled in disgust.
"You didn't want to shake my hand?"
She asked, looking genuinely confused.
"You just spit in
it!" Legolas sqeaked, nearly yelling. He had never heard of
anything so..so..so barbaric! She couldn't even begin to image how
unsanitary that was!
"Yes, so?"
"That is
disgusting! I don't know where your mouth has been!" Come to
think of it, he didn't even want to know. He shivered with the very
idea. She just rolled her eyes at him and wiped the offending hand on
her kilt. He made a note not to let that hand make contact with him
EVER. There is no telling how many revolting germs covered it.
"Are
elves so hypocritical as you?" She asked as she sat on the cot, it
creaking under her weight.
"I have no idea what you mean by
that."
"Oh come now, I know your hands and mouth have
probably many more interesting places than mine." Legolas would
have choked, but his mouth was suddenly dry. He hoped he had
interpreted that incorrectly.
"Excuse me?" That was a lame
response. Way to go elf-boy, that's the way to defend yourself.
"I am sure that many maidens lust for you, though it is not
hard to tell why." By the Valar, now she was trying to flirt with
him He could have laughed. But that amused feeling fled with the next
words from her mouth. "You are a pretty, pretentious, spoiled
prince." Whoa, back up. She didn't just call him pretty...he had
knocked out teeth for that remark. "One whom I'm sure has a
never-ending trail of shallow, gold-craving girls handing on your
every word "
"As a matter a fact a do." Legolas snapped
back, too angry and truly offended to care.
"But have you
ever had a woman, Legolas?" For a moment, Legolas was convinced he
had heard her wrong. But the smile was gone from her face and she was
looking at him intensely. Where had that come from? He blinked, and
she stood. If he hadn't been so trapped in the gaze, he would have
noticed that was the most fluid movement she had ever made.
She
approached him slowly, a feral grin on her face now. "Well,
Legolas?" She brought her hand up to his shoulder and let it travel
lazily down his chest. He gulped, that was the second time she had
called him by name. He liked the way she said it, her voice was
deeper and gruffer than most. He remembered the fuzz on her
legs...perhaps this would be a good way to get a closer peek... He
grinned back then, what he considered to be his most charming,
sensual smile that sent most ladies into a puddle at his feet. He
reached up to cup her face, and–
Bang, bang They both
jumped and stared at the furniture that was piled high against the
door. A large dresser tipped precariously and Legolas moved to catch
it. "Who is in there!" Aragorn. Legolas groaned, but in his
moment of despair, he let go of the dresser and the whole thing came
down on his foot. "Open this door immediately!" Thankfully the
Haradrim had stuffed a piece of his shirt into his mouth before he
could holler, but it did not keep a colorful litany of elvish curses
from escaping his lips. The sound, however muffed, could still be
considered quite loud in the quietness of the room, so the woman had
put her hand over his mouth. Disgusted, Legolas realized this was the
same hand she had earlier spit into. Trying to twist away, he was
surprised when she simply released him and let him fall to the floor
in an inelegant heap.
The sound of shuffling feet could be
heard above their heads, in the direction of the hatch in the
ceiling. Legolas just stared, so this was his fate. He never thought
it would end this way. The brave, glorious son of King Thranduil
would die of embarrassment. He let his head fall back against the
wood, his brain not even registering the loud thud or the extremely
uncomfortable nature of what he had just done. Defeated, he appeared
just as he had when first entering the room, spread-eagled and sick.
He would have laughed at the irony when a burly hand snatched him by
the back of his neck and started tugging him towards the corner of
the room.
Of course, Legolas thought, amused in his mad
state, she could not possibly let him die honorably. She had to make
sure he was hidden like a coward first. He neither helped, nor
hindered her efforts, allowing her to simply drag him across the
room. He slumped back against the corner of the wall while she threw
a scratchy wool blanket over him. Footsteps could still be heard
above, and the distinct sound of a lock being opened.
Legolas
heard her frustrated sigh and she shoved his leg under the blanket
with the rest of his corpse. He heard more shuffling, and then
triumphant shout from one of the rangers and the hatch door made a
creaking sound as it was swung open.
Legolas took his last
few breaths as he heard several people descend the latter. Footsteps
came towards him and he sighed, knowing he would be discovered.
"Release me!" He heard the order from across the room. "Do it
now you bloody orcs!" Oh wonderful, Legolas thought as she went on
to tell them exactly what they were with the help of a few choice
phrases. He couldn't help but be impressed, men of Gondor did not
even swear like that
"Silence!" Aragorn's voice again.
"You will not speak unless we ask it!" Oh, they were in for it
now. He would have laughed were it not for the fact he was trying to
remain invisible. The Haradrim did not disappoint. She laughed
loudly, much to the displeasure of the rangers, Legolas was sure. "I
said silence!" Aragorn barked again. Muffled snorts could be heard
from the imprisoned female. An irritated growl could be heard from
the future king.
Tact, Legolas counseled silently. It is
something you must acquire in order to converse with this
insufferable woman. But it was not one of his old friend's strong
points.
"What was going on in this room?" More laughter.
Nope, Legolas thought, he's not going to get anywhere. "Speak,
Haradrim...Be mindful that you are only spared for information."
"I am spared for information on war plans, of which I may
remind you, I have none. I am not kept alive so that you can
interrogate your way into my personal life." He could almost see
the shock on Aragorn's face and he giggled despite himself.
His
next words were sputtered, unsure, and most defiantly inebriated,
"This is my ship!"
"No, actually this ship belongs to
Herin, or at least it did until you killed him. Now it is the sole
property of the king of the Harad, all licences and agreements
protected in said copyright. And you, you pathetic excuse for a man,
have stolen it unlawfully "
Legolas could image that
Aragorn was speechless. And judging by the lack of retort, that was a
fair assessment. Legolas knew that he, like everyone else it seemed,
did not know quite how to manage this obstinate, intolerable piece of
work. After a long bout of silence, Aragorn seemed to concede. "Have
it your way, woman. Perhaps you will be more agreeable if we leave
you down here without food for few days " More feet shuffling could
be heard and the hatch was reopened. His elven ears picked up the
sounds of Aragorn's grumbling and he snickered. The hatch was swung
closed and almost immediately, the wool blanket was ripped off him.
The Haradrim stood there, hands on her hips, looking quite happy and
confident. All semblance of what would have been a 'thanks' fled
when he saw her
I-am-so-much-better-and-more-capable-of-handling-emergency-situations-than-you
look.
She took his hand and hauled him easily to his feet,
smirking. "You should not speak that way to the Lord Aragorn."
Legolas said sternly, though a quirky smile played at the edge of his
lips.
"You think I should treat him differently because he
will be a king?" He nodded and she snorted, a sound that was
becoming far too familiar for him. "Not likely." Legolas raised
his hands in mock defeat, he was not up to arguing again.
He
was glad he had, for in the next moment, she brought her hand to the
crease of his hip, slowly sliding her fingers up around the waist of
his leggings. His eyes widened, but he made no move to stop her.
"Now where were we?" Her voice was low and sultry.
Legolas grinned, the memory of her fuzzy legs still fresh in his
mind. Manwë be damned if he wasn't going to have a closer
look...
