Disclaimer: You know where to look

A/N: well, I hope no one is too miffed at m randomness and disregard for all that is holy and Legolas related.

Can't think of anything else to add, so, again,

ONWARD INTO THE RANDOM FLUFFNESS THAT IS THIS FIC!

Chapter 4: A confession and a Nazgul

I decide to stay up all night, instead of switching watches with Gimli. He is the only one yet who has not said or done anything suggestive, and I am not in the mood to rupture our friendship by dodging a saucy poke or sexual proposal. Besides, I don't need to sleep tonight, and I'm more afraid of what will happen once I am asleep.

When the orange and pink lights of morning creep slowly over the world, I stand and stretch, preparing to wake the others, hoping that they'll be over whatever it was that possessed them lately. I turn toward the camp where all my comrades had been sleeping and find that I have no need to wake them. They are all standing and watching me.

Says Aragorn, "Legolas, we've decided that we're in love with you."

I blink. "All of you?"

"Well, everyone but Gimli," Aragorn thumbs the direction of my bemused companion, leaning with his back to a rock with his arms and legs crossed.

"I think you're all ridiculous!" Gimli calls from his position and I smile.

"Cheers, Gimli," I say.

"But that doesn't change our minds," Aragorn says, stepping closer.

"I say we flip for him!" Pippin shouts.

"We could draw straws," Frodo suggests.

"No, no––" says Boromir in his most commanding voice. "This calls for a tournament!"

"Hey, do I have any say in this at all?!" I shout, growing flushed.

"Hm? Oh yes, of course," says Gandalf. "Now... Which one do you like best?" Gandalf gestures subtly to himself.

"None of you! I mean, that's not what I–– Look, I don't want any of you!"

"Sure you do!" Merry grins. "You're just shy!"

The company looks at one another. "Shy?" they coo. "Awww..." I hear Gimli snicker from his rock.

"I love you too, Legolas!" comes the disembodied voice of Saruman.

"And me!" a Nazgul comes crashing through the underbrush.

"Wait!" the sweet, slightly breathless voice of Glorfindel commands, as its

bearer follows the Nazgul into the knoll. "Legolas, I love you, I want to marry you–––say, what's the disembodied voice of Saruman doing here? I thought he was in Vegas."

"Get out of here!" I say to the company. "Come on–––the flock of you, out! Go!"

"But we know you'll sleep with at least some of us," Boromir says. "I mean... you're a sex kitten."

"WHY DOES EVERYONE THINK I'M A SLUT?" I roar.

For a moment, there is silence, until Sam, who'd been looking around thoughtfully, calls "Get him!"

With that the company rushes forward, a mass of yelling. The hobbits are the first on me, jumping on my neck and bringing me crashing to the ground. Dimly, I hear yells of, "Yeah, you get his arms! Hold him down!" and the sound of my sleeve tearing.

"I'm the youngest, I get first turn!" Pippin shouts over the din.

"That doesn't mean anything!" cries Gandalf. "I'm the oldest, so I get him first!"

"No I'm the oldest," I yell as loud as I can. "And I say EVERYBODY OFF!"

"Well actually, Legolas," Gandalf says instructionally. "The Istari are older than Middle Earth itself, so technically, that would make me–––and the disembodied voice of Saruman–––the oldest."

"I don't want a history lesson! GET OFF!"

My suitors seem to ignore me and I feel Boromir grabbing my hands and forcing them behind my back. Suddenly, I catch a glimpse of Gimli standing battle-ready, axe in both hands.

"LAY OFF THE ELF OR I START SWINGING!" he bellows and the others pull away from me.

"Ow," I say, rubbing my shoulder. "That killed."

I stand in a daze, pull my sleeve back onto my shoulder where the fabric had ripped and dash off into the forest.

T.B.C.

A/N: what will become of our dear Legolas?????? Weel, you'll just have to wait and find out won't you? buwahahahahahaha