Disclaimer: Once upon a time, there was a very successful movie director named Peter Jackson. He owned the rights to lots of movies like Dead Alive, but most importantly, the Lord of the Rings trilogy. Many coveted these rights because the movies earned Peter a lot of money and it meant access to hot actors like Orlando Bloom. Now far off in a magical land, there lived an authoress named Blue Kat who greatly desired these rights. But fortunately for her, she wasn't entirely insane and had a relatively firm grasp on reality, so she went off and married Orlando Bloom and rode off into the sunset with him on a horse named Elijah Wood. They had many children (and great sex! I mean…umm…they were dedicated parents…) and they all lived happily ever after, with the exception of Elijah, who deeply resented being called a horse.
A/N: Blarg. I'm sick and it's going into my lungs, so I'm coughing a lot. It sucks. But I've got Jason Mraz's CD on, so it's okay.
Happy National Talk Like A Pirate Day! If you don't know what that is, you should read more Dave Barry columns or get a weird calendar thingy. Argh! Heh heh. Kudos to Reikon who observed this national holiday in her review and made me laugh a lot. Kudos also goes to Satiana who said: "I just hope Legolas isn't the densest thing since concrete in this story," and made me laugh until I started coughing and fell off the chair in a wheezing heap. This is an exaggeration of course, but whatever. Kudos ALSO goes to Ravyn for her very amusing hobbit review. "Um, you're in a tree." Hee hee. Oh and for Rachel: according to Microsoft Word and the dictionary, mystification is a word. No, she's not in love with Gimli, LoL.
Well, not yet.
KIDDING! I'm totally kidding guys, no reason to feel alarmed…please put down those pitchforks and various sharp and pointy objects. Thank you.
Oh, here's an IMPORTANT PIECE OF INFORMATION: I was looking at my little mailing list thingy for TTAE updates and I realized that it was time that I updated the list because it has not been updated since the very beginning of the story. So, if you would like me to send you one of my friendly little emails when I update TTAE, please say so in your review and be sure to include your email address. Thanks.
Now, before we get on to the actual chapter, Wind Elf gets a major shout-out and kudos (I like that word) for coming up with this idea. There's a song called "The Truth About Men" (by Tracy Byrd), which I haven't actually heard, but one of the chorus lines is as follows:
'No matter what line we give you,
When we come crawling in,
We ain't wrong,
We ain't sorry,
And it's probably gonna happen again'
Wind Elf revised the lyrics slightly for Haley and
generously offered to let me use them in this chapter. You will be seeing them
later in this chapter, obviously, so I won't reveal them at this point in time.
Anyway, let's all give a big THANK YOU to Wind Elf along with one of my
infamous solid milk chocolate life-size statues of Legolas. Woo hoo!
Chapter Thirty-Two
(Dedicated to Wind Elf with many thanks from Blue Kat)
Altogether, it had been a pretty good day, considering everything.
However, Legolas, having decided to make it his personal mission to make my life very uncomfortable, suddenly concluded that it would be a good time to have…
Yup, you guessed it.
A Sindarin vocabulary quiz.
It's very hard to have a major crush on a guy when he insists being annoying as hell.
"Mountain," he said as I made another futile attempt to shut one of the buckles. We were preparing the last horse, the ebony mare I had admired earlier. She was rather patient at first, but she was beginning to get restless, pawing the ground with her forelegs and occasionally snorting (which was none too pleasant, especially since I was right in the line of fire).
"Um…hold still, dammit!" I scolded the mare as she attempted to toss her head again. She snorted. "I mean it…you're worse than Calatar…HOLD STILL!" She ducked out of my arms and scuffed at the floor with her hooves.
"Coincidentally, she is one of his progeny. A daughter, I think," Legolas informed me. How he knew this was beyond me. "She's restless," he added, standing up and gently rubbing her shoulder.
"Must run in the family or something…" I commented. The mare snorted again, remaining still long enough for me to finish the last buckle. "There. I hope you're satisfied," I grumbled to the horse, stepping back so Legolas could attach the infernal faceplate. "What's her name anyway?" I asked.
"Larien*," he replied. He picked up the faceplate and began to gently attach it to the bridle. Larien immediately calmed under his touch, which was slightly surprising to say the least.
Then again, he seemed to have the same effect on me, which could mean one of two things: either I'm hopelessly attracted to him or I'm really a horse.
"How do you do that?" I asked in bewilderment as the mare lowered her head submissively. He shrugged.
"My father taught me," he explained. "However, I am still waiting for your translation…" I sighed.
"Orod," I responded half-heartedly.
"Very good," he said, securing the last buckle. "Your pronunciation has improved immensely." I shrugged.
"Well, since you enjoy exploiting innocent people like me…" My speech was interrupted by the sudden reappearance of Aragorn and Gimli. As far as I could tell, they hadn't really done anything very important other than wander around. However, this evidently didn't bother Aragorn too much.
"Are the horses ready?" Aragorn asked immediately, which I thought was kind of stupid, as there were three horses standing right in front of him with saddles and bridles and everything. I rolled my eyes.
"No, Captain Obvious. We were playing dress-up and we never really got around to getting them saddled up," I replied. "It was a lot of fun. You should have stayed; Gimli could have been the princess." Gimli glared at this and Aragorn looked less than thrilled (as usual). I thought it was pretty darn funny, but my opinion on most things isn't often appreciated, so I guess I shouldn't have been too surprised. "My God, you all need to get a sense of humor," I said, shaking my head lugubriously.
"The horses are ready," Legolas informed them, attempting to be helpful. Aragorn nodded. Gimli, on the other hand, simply glared at me.
I don't think he likes being called a princess much…I thought to myself as I attempted to look innocent. Aragorn shook his head and Gimli continued to glare at me.
"Well," Aragorn said after a moment, "the King is prepared to leave very soon." With that, he untied the reins of the chestnut stallion from the post I had hooked them on and murmured softly to the horse (apparently, they knew each other) before skillfully climbing onto his broad back. Gimli took a long look at the white one Legolas had claimed as his own before grudgingly allowing himself to be hoisted up by Legolas. I looked skeptically at Larien, who was pawing at the ground impatiently. Taking a deep breath, I approached her cautiously and fitted my foot into the stirrup. I swung myself up onto the saddle, grimacing at the pain in my sore legs. Larien shifted her feet as I attempted to fit my foot into the other stirrup.
"Stay STILL!" I yelled pulling up on the reins slightly. She snorted indignantly and continued to scuff at the ground.
"Well, Haley," Aragorn said as I attempted to settle myself, "it seems that you've finally met your match."
"Yes," Gimli agreed, shaking his head sagely. "They share the same spirit and temperament." I paused in my movements and looked at them dangerously.
"Okay…you have just compared me to a HORSE…do you realize that this makes several violent actions completely justifiable, such as…hmmm…DROP KICKING YOU BOTH INTO NEXT WEEK?!" I asked, glaring particularly at Gimli. Aragorn chuckled good-naturedly, and nudged his horse gently and began exiting the stable, his shoulders shaking in laughter.
"Oh, so you find death threats funny?" I questioned, nudging Larien forward. She started quickly, her hooves clapping merrily against the floor. Aragorn continued laughing. I slumped in my saddle, knowing that it was pointless to take this argument further, as all of my companions (including Legolas) found this extremely amusing and were having a grand old time laughing it up at my expense.
As I rode grumpily into the bright sunlight outside, I was greeted by the sight of what looked to be the entire population of Edoras making their way toward the gates. Small carts filled with baskets of food, weaponry, coarse blankets, and trunks were hauled along the road by scruffy, dirt speckled men. In some cases, a weathered and bony old nag clearly suffering from health problems would be dragging the cart along in place of the men. Flies would swarm around the horse in clouds, the old thing desperately flicking her thin wisp of a tail to chase them away, only to have them land again in another spot farther up her back. The women would carry the smaller bundles on their back or in their arms; their younger children clinging to their free hands, wearing mixed expressions of confusion. Sometimes, the younger children would try to start up a game of some sort; but they were quickly chastised by the adults and forced to walk silently alongside their mothers with solemn faces. It was clear that they did not understand what was going on or why their elders were enveloped in a veil of sorrow and fear. The older children, the ones who understood, trudged along with a small basket or bundle in hand, somber and scared. The older men and women would shuffle alongside the carts, leaning heavily on canes or staffs, carrying very little, their eyes oddly distanced and often teary. Occasionally, we would pass a cart with a person in the back; either the occupant was very sick or very old; it was very hard to tell, as the thin blanket was often drawn up well past their heads. My heart contracted as we passed a little girl clutching a rag doll to her chest and crying quietly as she walked. I felt like such a snob, riding along on a gorgeous horse (who was probably pure-bred as well), with a good and warm set of clothes on my back, and food in my stomach, past these people who had virtually nothing, all of their possessions able to fit into a small wooden cart.
"Haley!" Legolas suddenly called from behind me. I turned in my saddle.
"What?" I asked, puzzled.
"You're veering off the road," he informed me. I turned back around and realized that Larien had decided to take an alternate route and was purposely heading toward what looked to be like a vegetable garden. I jerked the reins to the left and steered her back on course.
This was one of the reasons why Aunt Kate wasn't so keen for me to drive on my own right away. I had a tendency to space off.
We passed more depressing scenes of poverty that left me feeling awful and very inclined to do some charity work once the opportunity was available (I doubted that Aragorn would be too pleased if I suddenly stopped in the middle of the road and started offering to cook for people, even if it was for a good cause). Eventually, the distribution of guards and other people I recognized as part of the palace (if you want to call it that) staff increased significantly. As we drew near to the gates of the city, the common folk all but disappeared and armed men took their place.
We met the King at the gates, sitting proudly atop a white steed with a lot of fancy-schmancy saddle-type stuff that looked particularly royal and special. Aragorn brought his horse up next to Théoden and began conversing with him. I had no idea what they were talking about. I assumed it was kingly stuff, like running the country or wearing a crown or something like that. Either way, I wasn't too interested and directed myself to a more important task, which happened to be annoying Gimli and Legolas.
"Well guys," I said pulling back softly on the reins to discourage Larien from grazing on a substance that might have once resembled hay, but after being kicked around in the street, looked more like something you'd find living in a sewage drain, "it looks like we're going to have several looooooong days of incredible fun with ME!" I grinned obnoxiously. Gimli sighed heavily.
"Why don't we start by completing your vocabulary quiz," Legolas suggested, with the slightest grin tugging at the corners of his lips.
"You are a sadist, did you know that?" I said in reply, glowering slightly.
"Horse," was his response. I glared.
"Roch," I muttered under my breath.
Gimli, of course, thought this was the funniest thing since Legolas getting renamed "Lassie."
***
A very, very long time later, Théoden finally decided that it was time to leave. Apparently, he had been waiting for word from one of the people in charge of organizing this whole excursion (I guess, since he's king and all, all he has to do is lead us to Helm's Deep and look kingly and mighty. I decided to keep this thought to myself). I don't know what took so long, but by the time word was given, Legolas and I had run through his vocabulary list three times and we had gone on to forming actual sentences. This was mostly me saying something like "I ithil na…crap, Legolas what's 'bright'?" and Legolas would go into a mini-lecture before supplying me with the actual word, and by that time, I had forgotten what the original sentence was, along with what I had previously translated.
Needless to say, it was all rather boring. Gimli fell asleep at least three times and I'm pretty certain Larien did as well, because she was quiet for an unusually long period of time. Or she might have gone off to the horse equivalent of the Land of Oz. You could never really tell with her.
So when word finally came that everything was good to go, I was incredibly elated. Théoden said something kingly to commemorate the occasion (I'm not entirely sure what he was talking about—it might have been fighting for freedom or something valiant like that. But then again, he could have spent ten minutes talking about flying cows that were due to attack Edoras in six hours time and I wouldn't have noticed).
Théoden then mightily nudged his horse forward and began what would later end up being a very long journey. I gave the stirrups a good push and Larien jumped into motion, prancing along like some sort of prize pony.
Thus began our expedition. It doesn't sound very exciting, and for the first day or so, it wasn't. I had assumed that Helm's Deep really wasn't that far from Edoras, but after an hour or so of riding, I realized that it was a lot farther away than I had originally anticipated. The worst part was that we continued at a pace that is normally associated with turtles and handicapped butterflies. Of course, it took Larien a while to realize this, so she pranced for quite awhile before it became blatantly obvious that we were not going to be going any faster any time soon.
After an hour of riding at a tediously slow gait, Gimli decided to get down, claiming that he could walk faster than we were going. So it was soon just Legolas and I, riding side-by-side. He had given up on the Sindarin when I started to threaten to go completely insane, so we rode in silence, save for the occasional "Haley, you're drifting again." I grew bored very quickly and soon came to my last entertainment resort.
"The wheels on the bus go round and round," I sang softly under my breath. Legolas looked at me in either confusion at my sudden musical outburst or shock at my lack of musical talent. I ignored him and continued. "Round and round. Round and round. The wheels on the bus go round and round, all through the town…" I thought of something and grinned slyly. "The Dwarf on the bus goes 'Shut your trap! Shut your trap! Shut your trap!' The Dwarf on the bus goes 'Shut your trap!' all through the town…" Legolas smiled softly. I grinned and continued. "The Elf on the bus goes 'Translate this! Translate this! Translate this!' The Elf on the bus goes 'Translate this!' All through the town!" Legolas gave me another look, seeming slightly annoyed, but rather amused as well. "The Ranger on the bus goes 'I'm the boss! I'm the boss! I'm the boss!' The Ranger on the bus goes 'I'm the boss!' All through the town!" I thought for several moments, struggling to think of some other lyrics with three syllables to describe someone else. I was unable to think of anything and decided to move onto another song. "Ev'ry night in my dreams, I see you…I feeeeeeeeeeeeeel you…" I began, trying my best Celine Dion impression, which, judging from the expression on Legolas' face was not very good. "That is how I know you…gooooo onnnnnnnn…" I made a dramatic sweep with my right arm and tried to look pained and teary. "Faaaaaaarrrr across the distance, and spacessssssss betweeeeeeeeeeeeeeeen us! You have come to show you goooo onnnnnnn…" I took a deep breath and prepared to really belt it out. "Neeeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr, faaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrr!" Several heads turned in my direction, including Aragorn, who looked mildly disturbed, to say the least. "Wherevvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvver you are! I beeeeelieve that the heart does gooooo onnnnnnnnnnnn.…"
"Is that necessary?" demanded Gimli from where he was walking behind me. I turned to him and let a fake sob out of my throat.
"Onnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnce mooooooooooooooooore! You oooooooooooooooooooooopen the door! And yoooooooooou'reeeeeee heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeere in my heart and my heart will gooooo onnnnn and onnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn!"
"That's enough!" Gimli barked, interrupting what would have been a phenomenal version of verse two. And by phenomenal, I mean ear-splittingly awful to a point where you want to hurt someone.
I gave him a few minutes to calm down before quietly starting up again. "I know a song that gets on EVERYBODY'S NERVES! EVERYBODY'S NERVES! EVERYBODY'S NERVES! I know a song that gets on EVERYBODY'S NERVES and this is how it goes! Verse one! I know a song…" It took about three or four times before both Legolas and Gimli both realized that it was the same obnoxious verse over and over and OVER again (Aragorn was content to shoot the occasional evil look back in my direction. I grinned and waved in response). I quickly switched to "This Is The Song That Never Ends" but Gimli vetoed that before I got through half the first verse.
"Even in myyyy he-arrrt, I seeeeee…" I sang, busting out an old song from my teenybopper days (circa fourth through sixth grade). "You're not beeeeing true to meeeeee! Deep within my soooul…I feel…nothin's like it used to beeeeeeeeee! Sometimes I wish I coullllllld…turn ba-ack time…impossible as it may seeeeeeem…but I wish I cooooooould soooooo baaddddddd…bay-ay-baaaaaaayyy…quit playin' games with my heart! (Before you tear us apart!) Quit playin' games with my heart! I should've known from the staaaaaaaart!"
"I've had enough of that one too," Gimli informed me grumpily. He didn't like "As Long As You Love Me", "I Want It That Way", or "Shape of My Heart" much either.
Strangely enough, he didn't have much of a problem with N'Sync or Aaron Carter (I am not to blame for knowing any of the songs by those two particular artists…my good friend Laura listened to them virtually non-stop for several years, so after being forced to listen to both of their CD's over seven hundred trillion times, I know the lyrics to most of their songs, despite the fact that I really didn't enjoy them at all).
After awhile, I decided that it was time to switch to a different type of music. I settled on country.
"Mary-Ann and Wanda were the best of friends, all through their high school da-ays…" I crooned. "Both members of the 4-H Club, both active in the FFA…" I got to the chorus before Gimli ordered me to change songs because it disturbed him greatly. I think it had something to do with the fact that "Earl…had to die!" I argued that it was a great song, but he wouldn't have any of it.
"I hope you still feel small when you stand beside the ocean! Whenever one door closes, I hope one more opens!" "I Hope You Dance" got the same reception as "My Heart Will Go On" did from Gimli, so I was quickly forced to change songs (it might have had something to do with my obnoxious use of a very fake and poorly done Southern accent). So I sat there thinking for a while when I suddenly felt inspired to create my own lyrics.
"No matter what line you give me…" I began. "when you come crawling in…you are wrong, you better be sorry, and it's probably not going to happen agaaaaain…RIGHT Aragorn?" Aragorn looked back at me in annoyance, distributing yet another one of his infamous death looks.
"That's IT!" Gimli exclaimed angrily. "NO MORE SINGING!"
I couldn't have continued anyway, as I was laughing so hard that it was becoming increasingly difficult to breathe.
***
After many, many hours of incessant rambling and chatter from me, Legolas decided that I needed to walk for a while. I think that his main intention was to preserve Gimli's dwindling patience, but I saw it as more of an opportunity to return the circulation and feeling to my legs. I swung down from Larien's saddle and promptly fell right on my ass, which made Gimli laugh. Legolas helped me up and quickly directed me to the front part of the line, most likely to avoid more unnecessary bickering between Gimli and myself. I managed to call Gimli a stupid loser before Legolas gently shoved me in the other direction, which was not a very good idea because I was leading Larien (and he had his own horse as well) around by the reins, and the last thing I needed was to be trapped under a very large horse.
"This has certainly turned out to be a rather long day," he said to me once we were out of earshot. I raised an eyebrow.
"Oh really, Elf-Boy," I replied as we passed Aragorn and Éowyn. I grinned cheekily in his direction and he responded with an exasperated look. I made a face and continued onward. "I could always start singing again."
"That's not necessary," he answered quickly. I huffed and turned my head, pretending to be incredibly insulted.
"No one appreciates my talents!" I exclaimed, wiping away an imaginary tear. Legolas smiled slightly and shook his head.
We continued like this for a while in a companionable silence, which was occasionally broken by Legolas to alert me to the fact that I was drifting again.
"It's true you don't see many dwarf women," I overheard Gimli telling Éowyn later that day. "And in fact, they are so alike in voice and appearance, they are often mistaken for dwarf men!"
"It's the beards," I heard Aragorn explain softly. I snorted and Legolas looked at me oddly.
"Listen…" I gasped between giggles.
"And this in turn has given rise to the belief that there are no dwarf women! And dwarves just, spring out of holes in the ground!" Gimli continued. I heard Éowyn laugh heartily in response. I chortled and Legolas looked slightly amused. "Which is of course ridiculous," Gimli continued with a chuckle. His laugh suddenly escalated to a shout and a horse carrying a very flustered dwarf suddenly streaked past me. Gimli quickly lost his balance and fell off the horse and onto the ground with an audible thump.
Serves him right for laughing at me…I thought to myself. Revenge is sweet…
"It's alright! It's alright!" he insisted from the ground as Èowyn rushed forward to help him. I couldn't control my amusement and immediately started laughing, not bothering to cover my mouth with my hand. "Nobody panic. That was deliberate. It was deliberate," he continued as Èowyn attempted to help him up (not doing a very good job of controlling her laughter, I might add). Legolas started laughing softly after the dwarf's last exclamation, and I continued to emit many chortles that eventually turned into guffaws.
God, I wish I had a video camera.
***
We finally stopped for camp as dusk began to turn into evening. By that time, my legs were very sore from the combined effects of riding and walking and I was all too glad to hand Larien over to one of the guys in charge of feeding and watering the horses.
"I am in so much pain," I announced to Aragorn, plopping down on the ground next to him. I rummaged around in my pack and found one of the little lembas packets I had swiped when Aragorn wasn't looking. I broke off a piece of the already crushed wafer and chewed thoughtfully.
"Yet you still find the energy to sing," he commented, watching Gimli colorfully argue with one of the guards over something. Knowing him, it was probably something stupid.
"Aren't I amazing?" I asked, brushing the crumbs off my fingers. Aragorn opened his mouth to say something. "That was a rhetorical question. No comments from you," I replied. He smiled and soon spaced off. My guess is he was thinking about weapons, or something like that.
For dinner that night we had dried meat (which had the consistency and taste of leather), cold potatoes, bread, apples, and carrots that looked rather faded and old. I gave my carrots to Larien, who didn't seem to have a problem with it at all—but she also tried to eat my fingers and part of my tunic, so it could have tasted like a dead beetle for all I know. I gave my three apples (Gimli didn't want his and I had received two as my ration for no particular reason) to a family that was camping by us. They accepted them graciously, despite the fact that they had a whole basket in their cart (which I didn't notice until much later). Needless to say, I felt pretty stupid.
Most of the men had already decided that they were going to stay up for a long time and talk about defense tactics and all sorts of fun stuff. I was already feeling drowsy and had absolutely no interest in hearing every possible outcome of every possible situation, so I decided to turn in early (I was also trying to avoid another Sindarin lesson, but never mind). I placed Aragorn and Legolas in charge of watching my pack, rolled out my sleeping roll, and crawled inside. I had folded up both of my cloaks to form a makeshift pillow and I soon fell into a very light sleep.
***
I woke sometime later in the night to Aragorn's voice. Most of the camp had since gone to sleep, save for the handful of guards standing watch. Aragorn had dozed off against a rock, pipe still smoking in his hand. I rolled my eyes. Next time he tries to talk to me about being responsible, he's getting one upside the head.
"I am asleep," he was saying to someone. "This is a dream." I laughed quietly into my so-called pillow, trying to keep my voice down. He then started speaking in Elvish. I thought maybe after awhile he would shut up, but that didn't happen. Drastic times call for drastic measures…
I crept out of my sleeping roll, sliding my stocking feet into my boots before tiptoeing over and hitting him a couple of times with my folded cloaks. He grunted in his sleep, rolled over, and was quiet save for the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest.
Good. He's still breathing, I thought to myself as I carefully extinguished his still-smoking pipe. I tiptoed back to my sleeping roll, slipped out of my boots, and crawled back in, intent on getting a couple hours of uninterrupted sleep.
"May I ask what on earth you were doing?" inquired a voice. I rolled over to find Legolas quietly sitting nearby, his bow and arrows within easy reach. I blushed. Whoops.
"He was talking in his sleep and he wouldn't shut up," I explained, drawing the blankets up to my chin. "And he left his pipe burning. I had to do something…"
"You talk in your sleep quite often…" he informed me. I colored immediately.
"Really?" I said, feigning nonchalance. "Um, what exactly have I said?" Panic was rising in my throat. It would be just like me to reveal all my secrets when I was sleeping…
"Usually nonsense," he replied. Relief flushed through my veins and I could suddenly breathe a whole lot easier. "I believe you once said something about Gimli turning into a fish. And another time you muttered something about Gandalf wearing a pink dress." He took a breath and paused for a moment. "You've also…spoken about your aunt several times," he continued hesitantly. "And after Gandalf fell…you would mention him or call out his name…" He trailed off and looked at me pensively.
"So…why hasn't anyone mentioned this to me before?" I asked, trying to avoid his gaze. He shrugged.
"It never came up…Aragorn mentioned something about using it to threaten you at a later date," he said with a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. I rolled my eyes.
"You're all a bunch of dorks," I informed him. "I'm going back to sleep, and you should too. It's late and we have another day of fun riding ahead." I grinned obnoxiously at this last part.
"I will wait an hour more," he said. I shrugged, figuring that was the best I could get out of him.
"Well, if you say so," I replied, stifling a yawn. "Goodnight." I put my head down on the pillow and shut my eyes.
"Goodnight, Haley," he murmured softly. Warmth spread throughout my body, all the way to the tips of my fingers and I knew it had nothing to do with my sleeping roll.
Sometime later, I cracked an eye open. Legolas was still up, staring off into the distance. I shut my eyes.
"Why is Legolas dressed as a giant fruitcake and dancing the hokey-pokey?" I muttered sleepily.
"Very funny, Haley," I heard Legolas reply. I laughed and pulled my sleeping roll tight around my shoulders. Soon, the noises around me began to dim as I drifted off into a light, dreamless, and hopefully speechless sleep.
A/N: * = Horse's name was taken from an Elvish name generator. I thought it was pretty.
Well, while I was writing this, my brother's friend came with the lid to the ice bucket on his head and informed me that he had just graduated from college. My brother then came in with the actual ice bucket on his and said that he was British. They also threatened my rubber duck bank (Albert) with imaginary guns. Then they were pretending my Nesting Dolls were smuggling people in and out of Cuba and the US.
Annnnd….I just walked into the family room to find them singing. Yes singing. About what you might ask? Meats. The song goes something like this:
Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh…
Liver tastes like liver,
Liver, liver, liver!
Gee, I'd like some liver please!
Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh….
Next verse!
It's the "Song That Never Ends" in the poultry department, only worse, because neither of them is on key. But the worst part is that you can hear it all around the house. I'm turning up my CD.
Crap. They've come to my room for a special performance. This must be why they have the maximum volume on CD players.
So if this chapter seems weird, I blame it on them. I'm trying to recover from the fact that I share the same gene pool with one of them…although, that might explain a couple things…
All the songs in this chapter belong to their appropriate artists…with the exception of Wind Elf's revised lyrics to "The Truth About Men" and my revised lyrics to "Wheels on the Bus." Otherwise, it's not mine, don't sue, I don't have any money anyway.
Hope this chapter was long enough (about 11 pages). You guys rock! Review!