Disclaimer: *ducks under computer desk to avoid screaming fangirls with WE WANT LEGOLAS!...OH, AND HARRY TOO placards* Don't kill me! I don't own them, it's Rowling and Tolkien you want! *mob goes to hunt down Tolkien, not at all bothered by the fact that he's dead*
A/N: Aaaaaaaaaand it's another chapter! I'm still trying to come up with a good name for the story, but I'll get it eventually. *sigh* Apparently I use up all my title creativity on chapter names. Anyway...for those who actually took the request for abbreviations and terms seriously, please make sure to include the meanings with them, as this is as much for my benefit as anyone else's. With all that said, let us proceed to the matter at hand...leaving you in suspense about Aragorn and Snape for a while as we rejoin our favorite Elf.
Poster, Poster on the Wall...
Legolas stepped out of the Gryffindor common room carrying his stack of papers. Excitement coursed through his veins at the thought of the noble task he was undertaking. Why, years from now his list could very possibly occupy a place in history alongside such legendary documents as the Declaration of Independence, the Magna Carta, and Meriadoc Brandybuck's Herblore of the Shire!
Now the most important question was...where should he put up a sign first? He wanted to make sure every person, demon, and ghost in the school was aware of the terrible treatment of house-elves and the fact that he, Legolas Greenleaf, was the only one to save them. Maybe he should have put a picture on the signs so everyone could see how uniquely qualified for the job he was, what with his perfectly braided hair, great smile, and seemingly endless supply of arrows. Would his campaign get as much attention without a photo of the hottest Elf in existence?
Quickly casting away such doubts before they could discourage him, Legolas began to stride down the hallway, but stopped. If he put up one of the signs right outside the common room, every Gryffindor would be sure to see it at least once a day, reminding them of how wonderful he was. As if they could ever forget...
He quickly whipped out the Spellotape and took the sign on top of his sheaf. Squinting in concentration, he examined the stone wall thoroughly, searching for the optimum spot to post something of great importance. Aha! The perfect place. Not too far from the ground out of respect for vertically challenged people like Gimli, but high enough that it would definitely be noticed by everyone who approached the common room. Legolas tore off a few pieces of tape and arranged them carefully on the back of his precious sign. Now all that remained was to stick it on the wall, making sure it was aligned perfectly.
Reverently, Legolas placed the sign on the wall and pressed to make sure it would stay. [One small step for an Elf, one giant leap for all Elfkind!]
Fluttering gently, the paper fell to the floor. Legolas stared in astonishment and horror. It wasn't sticking! What could this mean? Frantically, he snatched it up again and slammed it back onto the wall, wondering what in the name of Elbereth was going on.
As the sign once more detached itself from the wall, the Elf made a strangled noise of frustration and started preparing to pull out large handfuls of his flawlessly dyed blond hair. This attracted the attention of the Fat Lady, who had been carefully filing her nails. She glanced at him in annoyance, but her look quickly melted into sappy adoration when she saw who he was.
"What's the problem?" she cooed, batting her eyelashes at him in a manner that made Legolas extremely nervous. Fangirls were fine any day, but this was going a bit too far. Still, at the moment he was willing to take any help he could get. Giving her his best handsomely crestfallen look, he pointed wordlessly from the stone wall to the sign lying on the floor and generally looked helpless.
Her quadruple chins quivered with sympathy. "Oh, you poor thing! Were you trying to put that up?" Legolas nodded silently, wondering whether he should make his lower lip tremble a bit for effect. Apparently, it wasn't necessary, as she seemed to be paying quite enough attention to him without benefit of puppy-dog pout. "I'd find another spot if I were you, dearie," she advised kindly. "That wall's enchanted to repel signs, don't you know?"
Legolas snorted to himself. [If I knew, would I be trying to hang something here?] "No, I'm afraid I didn't know," he said aloud, flashing the Fat Lady a patented Elf Grin, guaranteed to make any female melt into a small puddle of goo. He wasn't quite sure whether it would work on paintings, but so far this one was reacting very favorably. Now if he could just convince her to get rid of that stupid anti-sign spell...
"Well," he asked sweetly, "couldn't you just make a little tiny exception for me?" He shook his head slightly to make his hair fall into just that state of untidiness that fangirls found so irresistibly cute. The Fat Lady seemed to be having trouble keeping her facial muscles under control—her eyes were crossing a little and her jaw was going slack. Yes, it was definitely having the desired effect.
She smiled adoringly at Legolas but, much to his disappointment, shook her head as firmly as possible under the circumstances. "Sorry, but I really can't do that. Do you have any idea what those Weasley boys would do if they could put up signs here?" Legolas gulped in horror at the thought. She certainly did have a point there, but he wasn't ready to give up yet. After all, he couldn't quit while there were house-elves to rescue!
He decided to try a last-ditch effort. Now the success of his mission depended on
just how smitten this lady was with him.
Hopefully enough to fall for an incredibly stupid story...Legolas took a
deep breath and hoped he could make this sound believable.
"You see, my lady, normally I would love to tarry here a while and talk with
such a lovely companion as yourself—" The Fat Lady simpered and blushed. Legolas rolled his eyes mentally, but
considered this a good sign and bravely soldiered on. "—But you see, I am on a quest to help the downtrodden and
oppressed and..." He was really getting
into the whole noble quest thing now and warmed to his part. "I cannot rest or find pleasure in anything
until my task is accomplished."
Lowering his head in muted sorrow and slumping his shoulders at just
that precise angle calculated to inspire sympathy, Legolas allowed himself a
small sigh to emphasize how deeply he felt for the downtrodden, oppressed
house-elves.
The Fat Lady looked as if she were about to cry. "Oh, dear," she said sadly. "I'm sure I don't know what I can do to help a great warrior like you." Legolas inclined his head modestly, wondering how long he could hold his laughter in. Suddenly the Fat Lady brightened. "Unless—"
"Unless?" Legolas prompted helpfully, a feeling of excitement stirring in him at the thought of actually getting to hang his beloved sign. It had certainly taken long enough...
Blushing like a teenager, the Fat Lady lowered her eyes. "I suppose just this once I could nullify the spell," she murmured, smiling dreamily at nothing in particular. "But only in special cases, you understand—"
"I understand perfectly," Legolas assured her jubilantly. It was all he could do to stop himself from clicking his heels together in triumph. He had done it! Now he would finally get to reap the fruit of his labors...
Suddenly all business, the Fat Lady instructed, "All right, now put the sign where you want it." Legolas obeyed meekly, once more centering his beautiful sign perfectly on the wall. Ah, what a work of art! "Just hold it there..." The Fat Lady concentrated, wrinkles appearing between her brows.
"WHAT HAVE WE HERE?!" Both parties jumped at the sudden appearance of Argus Filch, who was eyeing them suspiciously. "Going to hang a sign, were we?" he asked nastily. "Going to break school rules, weeeere we?" Leaning in close, he fixed Legolas with an evil glare of doom to match even Gandalf's. Legolas gulped with fear, eyeing Filch's cat, Mrs. Norris, apprehensively. He'd always been somewhat leery of cats, and this was definitely not your average feline. In fact, Legolas had a feeling that this particular cat could trace her heritage directly back to some Balrog or other.
Deciding that this was not a good time to tell the truth, Legolas forced another dazzling grin and said, "Of course not. How stupid do you think we are, anyway?" [Wait...don't answer that.] Sadly, dazzling grins apparently had no effect whatsoever on a hardened case like old Argus Filch. The caretaker sneered collectively at Legolas, his sign, and the world in general in a manner that had taken him thirty years to perfect. It showed.
"I won't answer that," Filch rasped, his lip curling more than Legolas would have thought humanly possible. "You are aware that hanging a sign of any shape, size, or texture near a common room is prohibited by Article 682, Section 45, Paragraph 23.18 of Dos and Don'ts at Hogwarts?" Legolas had a suspicion that Dos and Don'ts at Hogwarts had never been read by anyone other than Filch, even Hermione, but he wasn't about to bring that up under the circumstances.
Shuffling his feet in what he thought was a pretty good imitation of shame, Legolas hung his head and confessed, "No, actually I didn't know. And let me just say at this point that if I had had any inkling whatsoever that I was breaking school rules in the process of my good and noble campaign to improve many lives and make the world a better place, I would never have embarked on it." Legolas paused to dash an imaginary tear from his eye and continued, "Good sir, I am heartily sorry to have offended you in this manner and I assure you that I will immediately give up my foolish ideas of helping the poor make better lives for themselves." [There...that should do it.] Smugly, Legolas prepared a speech of forgiveness to give when the man broke down in tears at the thought of his inadvertent callousness.
"About time!" Filch snapped sharply. The Elf's mouth dropped open in astonishment and his head jerked up abruptly at the response. "You idealistic young idiots," the caretaker continued, giving him a look that would have sent him straight to the halls of Mandos in Valinor if looks could kill. "Always thinking of other people, what kind of imbecile gives a newt tail about the underdog? I tell you, kids these days..." Legolas resisted the strong urge to inform him that he was, in fact, approximately two thousand four hundred thirty-seven years old, opting instead to escape at the next convenient opportunity and argue the facts of the case later.
Filch was now pacing up and down in front of his captive audience, obviously enjoying every minute of his harangue. "Now when I was a young lad we didn't hold with any of this standing-up-for-others business. I remember walking to school two hundred miles through the snow uphill both ways with polar bears attacking every five minutes and me with only my old tin lunchbox..." Seeing his opportunity, Legolas waved a farewell to the Fat Lady, clutched his stack of signs tightly, and made a break for it, still in shock at the thought of Filch as a boy. It seemed like such an oxymoron...
Angry shouts followed him down the hallway, but Legolas ran with a speed born of desperation and soon outdistanced the pursuing Filch. Once he felt he was safe, he leaned against the stone wall, panting for breath and thinking that, on the whole, he had felt much safer back when he was still trying to save Middle-earth from the evil Lord Sauron. After all, even Sauron himself surely couldn't compare with Mrs. Norris!
"Eh, what's all this now?" a voice inquired at Legolas' elbow, making our hero jump in surprise. Had Filch found him so soon? If so, all was lost…Slowly, fearing the worst, Legolas turned to face the owner of the voice and found himself face to face with—
Another painting. What the heck was going on with this castle, anyway? At least the Fat Lady had been in her own picture! This fellow looked like Denethor only saner, his graying hair hidden under the weirdest helmet Legolas had ever seen. Somehow, this contrasted strongly with the painting of fluffy pink unicorns in the background, but the Elf managed to keep a straight face and, summoning his best imitation of dignity, asked, "And who may you be, sir?"
The knight proclaimed proudly, "Know you, barbarian knave, that I am Sir Cadogan, the bravest and most valorous soul in all of Christendom! Or pagandom, for that matter…but I'm getting off track again. Where was I? Oh yes. STAND AND FIGHT, YOU MANGY CUR!" Sir Cadogan seemed to have forgotten that he was stuck in the frame and began advancing on Legolas, tiny sword drawn in righteous indignation.
Legolas blinked, still somewhat bemused by this latest turn of events. However, he quickly realized that he could use this "Sir" Cadogan to his advantage. After all, someone who had spent all his existence roaming from wall to wall would certainly know the best spots to post important messages! Now, how could he get this guy on his side?
"Um, O great Sir Cadogan," he began, racking his brains for something suitably flattering, "I have sought you out because of your…uh…matchless bravery, courage, valor, and all that. I hope that I, a humble barbarian cur, can benefit from your infinite wisdom and thus complete my noble and good quest for which I have striven for so long." Convinced that he had given a pretty good speech, Legolas made a courtly bow, complete with flourishes. Sir Cadogan beamed at him.
"Well, my boy," he said, "mayhap I can aid you in this quest of which you speak. And if we are to complete this task, there must be no delay. We attack at dawn!"
Wondering about the wisdom of having chosen such an ally, Legolas volunteered, "O noble and mighty Sir Cadogan, methinks it is already nigh ten o'clock." Sir Cadogan assimilated this, but recovered quickly.
"Very well, we attack now!" Legolas smiled to himself. This was more like it! Sir Cadogan pointed his sword to the right and yelled, "Onward and upward, my lad!" He began running in the direction indicated, but stopped a few paintings down the hallway and looked back at Legolas dubiously.
"Where exactly are we going?" he inquired. Legolas repressed a sigh and steeled himself for what was shaping up to be a very long day.
A/N: I'm really sorry it took so long to post this chapter, but apparently the best way to assign schoolwork is to give students approximately ten projects in the last six weeks of the year. This has the small side effect of wreaking havoc on any plans for fanfiction, so I've been stuck writing papers and such for the last month. Of course, trying to work on about fifteen stories at the same time doesn't help either…Hopefully I will post some of those soon. For anyone who wanted to see me write LOTR, I have one up called "Eight Characters in Search of an Exit" and will hopefully be posting about five more very soon, so have patience! Meanwhile, I really do need those abbreviations. Things I need definitions for: MST, C/C, and YAOI. Plus anything else you can give me, of course…Coming Really Really Soon If I Have Anything to Say About It: Chapter Eight.