A/N- You're favorite author called Reasonably Crazy here. It's is officially 11:02 Christmas night and I am beginning chapter three of my Holiday fanfic, listening to track... 4 (One of the coolest) of the ROTK soundtrack. I have spent the day (when not at my cousin's house) playing my newly acquired ROTK chess set, my new LOTR Trivial Pursuit game (which is rather pointless, as I'm the only fan in my family), reading my book of LOTR maps, and watching the behind-the-scenes thingy of ROTK. Again. Life is good.

Thank you to all 6 people who reviewed chapter two!

Emerald Griffin: Thanks for coming back, and telling me that you still like it! I hope it continues to live up to your expectations!

Gollum Girl: Woot! Thank you!!!

Permanently Unhinged: Yes, I can relate. (To your screen-name, I mean). Please read and enjoy!

Silver Knight 7: Thanks! You too!

Jewel Valentine: alright... Fine. HAVE YOUR COUGH SYRUP! SEE IF I CARE!! Mmmm.. Mint chocolate kisses. You reviewed. Again. So you can have one. And don't worry about the snorting thing- In the presence of a rather cute guy I laughed, snorted, and had cantaloupe come out my nose. Ow. He hasn't talked to me since, and runs when he sees me in the hall.

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"Aragorn..."

There she was, Arwen, more beautiful than ever.

"Aragorn, come here. I have a gift for you."

Smiling, Aragorn complied. "A gift? What kind of gift?"

"SNOOOOOOOW!!!!" Without any warning, Arwen flung a huge, sopping, freezing cold snowball at his face, apparently trying to see how much she could get up his nose to freeze his brain and perhaps cause permanent damage.

With that lovely, lasting image, Aragorn woke to see the Hobbits and the Elf standing by his bed, most completely dissolved into fits of laughter. "WHAT did you do that for?" He demanded, trying to scrape the icy slop of his face without completely drenching his bed.

"Sorry, Strider," Sam said, the only one present who seemed to really be sorry at all. "But we tried and tried to get you to wake up, only you wouldn't, and-"

"And you saw fit to dump snow on my face."

Frodo, Merry, and Pippin were too far gone in hilarity to say anything, so Legolas stepped in. "That would sum it up rather well."

"Your- your FACE!" Pippin gasped from the floor, where he, Merry, and Frodo had fallen when standing proved to be too much in addition to laughing and breathing.

"You should've seen it," Merry struggled to get out.

"You SHOULD see it!" Frodo looked at Aragorn and started laughing all over again.

A pounding sound came from the wall. "Could you keep it down, Laddie? SOME of us are trying to sleep!"

Aragorn considered apologizing to Gimli, but decided he didn't have the energy to shout all the way through the wall. He did, apparently, have enough energy to shout at them. "WHY did you find it necessary to wake me up at-" He checked the digital clock by his bed. "4:00! Dear deity- You went to bed three hours ago! What are you doing up NOW?"

"It's Christmas!" Merry said, as though it was plainly obvious.

"And it will still be Christmas in five hours." Aragorn fell back onto his bed, and a faint squishing was heard as his head struck the wet pillow. He flung it at Legolas, who happened to be nearest, and pulled the damp blankets over his head.

"Five hours!" Pippin repeated in shock. "You want to wait until... Until..."

"Nine O' clock," Frodo supplied.

"You want to wait until nine O' clock?!" Pippin finished in disbelief.

A muffled groan came from beneath the covers. "Six. But no earlier, alright?"

He was met with a sulky silence.

Another groan, more forceful this time. "Fine, fine. We're waiting until six, but you can raid your stockings now."

"YAAAAY!!!!" A thundering of footsteps, then silence. Aragorn carefully pulled his head out from beneath the blankets; no Hobbits nor Elves to be seen. He sighed in relief and went back to sleep, damp bed, pillow-less, and all. Who cared? Maybe he'd have another dream about Arwen... With NO snow.

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"Aragorn."

...

"Aragorn."

...

"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaragorn."

"Mph."

"Aragorn Aragorn Aragorn."

"Mmmmphugg. Leemeelone."

"Elessar. Estel. Strider. Aaaaaaaaaragorn."

"Uuunggwagh. Whaaat?"

"It's six. You promised."

"Mmmmph. Did I?" He rolled over and attempted to hide himself more deeply in his blanket cocoon.

"Aragorn."

No answer.

"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaragorn."

Still no reply.

"Pippin's getting the snow as we speak."

That worked. "Alright, alright, I'm up." He looked to see who exactly it was that pulled him from another Arwen dream, which in all likelihood involved things that are not suitable for a G rating.

"Legolas?"

"No, this is Gollum. Yes, of course I'm Legolas."

Aragorn groaned and shook his head. "You take this stuff far too seriously. I don't envy you when you try to wake up Gandalf and Gimli."

"Oh, not to worry- I made Pippin wake up Gandalf, and Frodo and Merry are attempting to wake up Gimli while Sam makes breakfast."

"You put two on Gimli while Gandalf is more likely to kill someone?"

"Well, Gimli's a lot harder to wake up."

"I see. You say Sam's making breakfast?" The two wandered downstairs.

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"Gimli, come ON. Wake UP!!!" Merry and Frodo, having tried countless times to bring the Dwarf back to the world of the living, finally sank to the floor in exhaustion.

"You know what, Merry?" Frodo said at a length. "I'm beginning to believe he's dead."

They both stared at Gimli for a while, watching for signs of breathing.

Merry paused. "Do you really think?"

"Do you see him breathing?"

"Well, no, but he's also wearing his armor- that probably doesn't move to easily just by breathing."

"According to him he blew the horn at Helm's Deep. That takes lungs. Don't you think you'd be able to move a piece of plate armor after something like that?"

Another pause. Merry stood up. "I'm getting Aragorn and Legolas."

Before Merry reached the door, however, a terrific roaring sound ripped from the bed.

"HOLY COW!!" Frodo ran to Merry and hid behind him.

"What? Why am I your shield?"

"Because... Because I'm the Ring-bearer and I need to be protected!"

"You're not the Ring-bearer anymore!" Merry spun around and got behind Frodo.

"Well, I'm disabled!" Frodo displayed his missing finger and shoved Merry in front of him.
"So?" Merry struggled to get behind Frodo again.

"Wait, wait- the roaring's stopped!"

They paused, listening, and sure enough it was silent. Just then, another terrific noise came from beneath the blankets; this time the two held their ground.

"Um, Frodo? I'm pretty sure that Gimli's not dead."

"You mean that beastly sound is him SNORING?"

Merry's reply was drowned by another deafening snore.

"Well, make it STOP!" Frodo put his hands over his ears, trying to dull the noise.

"Gimli!" Merry, sick of trying to traditional way to wake the Dwarf up, started jumping on his bed, yanking his beard, and shouting at the top of his lungs. Frodo sat and watched.

Legolas stuck his head through the door. "Having issues?"

Frodo glared. "NOOOOOO. We're just DANDY."

"No need to get all snippy. Have you tried snow?"

"Yes," Frodo shouted over the thump caused by Merry falling off Gimli's bed.

"Ooooowwwwwww..."

Legolas and Frodo didn't so much as glance in Merry's direction.

"I know how to wake him up." Legolas left the room, muttering something about him having to do EVERYTHING, and returned with a pair of scissors.

Gimli, until recently lost deep in slumber, winced as he neared sleep's surface. Somewhere in his dreams of beautiful short, chubby, long- bearded dwarf women, he could have sworn he heard the cold snip of scissors.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!! Get away from my beard, you- you- CONFOUND YOU, YOU BLASTED ELF!"

Gimli dashed to the bathroom to see how much damage Legolas had done to his beard, while Merry, Frodo, and Legolas laughed.

"We'll be in the kitchen," Merry reported to Gimli when they passed him, Gimli assuring himself that not so much as a whisker was damaged.

"Confounded Elf," Gimli muttered, following them down the stairs. "A merry Christmas indeed- See if I ever trust HIM with scissors again..."

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Pippin slowly walked up to Gandalf's bed, only to see his eyes already staring at him. The hobbit jumped and let out a rather interesting noise (which he later denied ever doing) until he remembered that it was a Gandalf thing and that the grouchy wizard was not, in reality, conscious.

"Gandalf?" he whispered.

No reply.

"Gandalf?" The Hobbit tried again, slightly louder this time.

There was still no reaction.

"GANDALF!" Pippin jumped back quickly, fearing the wizard's wrath. However, Gandalf gave no indication that he knew Pippin was there.

Pippin found himself in a dilemma. If he woke Gandalf suddenly, he risked being killed with whatever was handy before the wizard was actually conscious. If he didn't wake Gandalf, none of them could open presents until he woke up on his own- which would most likely be well beyond noon.

Pippin decided to risk death, as any smart person (or Hobbit) would. Now he got to perform in, if not what he was best at, something he was highly, highly skilled in: being annoying.

First attempt: singing. The only song for it, of course, was the Drinking Song.

"Oh oh oh! To the bottle I go! To heal my heart and drown my woe! (Dit dit diddle diddle dit dit!" - He tried to replicate the fiddle, failing rather horribly, but that was okay as he was, in fact, trying to be annoying.) "Oh oh oh! To the bottle I go! To heal my heart, and drown my woe! And under a tall tree I will lie, and there clouds go sailing by... Oh oh oh! To the bottle I go. To heal my heart and drown my woe!"

Gandalf didn't flinch. Pippin, in a burst of rebelliousness, stuck out his tongue, and wondered how he went so long without blinking as he tried to decide what to do next.

Perhaps a less-familiar annoying song, then. "How many elephants can you fit in a room before they break though the floor? Well, the answer my friends, is one, two, three, four, then the elephants will break through the floor."

Still no stir from Gandalf. In irritation, Pippin next belted out the Salt Song. "I do like salt, da na na na na na na! I do like salt, da na na na na na na! I like it in my food! I like it in my soup! I like it! I like it! I like it in my head, yeah! Da na na na na na! Is this a cow? *clap clap* this is a cow! *clap clap* How do I know *clap clap* this is a cow? *clap clap* It mooed! *clap* just now! *clap* That's how! *clap* WOW!"

That was one of the most annoying songs Pippin knew, and still Gandalf did not wake. Perhaps song singing wouldn't do it. Unless...

"Gandalf got run over by a reindeer! Walking from the Shire Christmas eve! You might say there's no such thing as Santa, but as for me and-"

Moments later, Pippin found himself being chased by a staff-wielding Gandalf.

"AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!! MERRY! FRODO! STRIDER, SAM, LEGOLAS, ANYONE! HEEEEEEEELLLLLLP MEEEEEE-"

What would have undoubtedly been a very long and stretched out 'me' was replaced by a series of thumps Gandalf managed to give Pippin a glancing blow, which sent him careening down the steps. Again.

At the base of the steps, a very dazed Pippin tried to stand and escape from the still-attacking Gandalf, but as this proved too difficult after falling dawn a flight of steps, he latched onto the nearest leg and pretended that this would actually help him.

Unfortunately for Legolas, whom Pippin had grabbed, Gandalf labeled him as an accomplice, and attacked him as well. Since his natural Elvish grace and quickness was hampered with his new Hobbit attachment, Legolas promptly fell over, leaving him open for assault.

"What in the dickens is going on?" Aragorn and Gimli dashed out of the kitchen to see a pajama-wearing Gandalf viciously attacking Legolas, who had Pippin firmly affixed to his leg.

Twenty minutes later, Legolas and Pippin had their ice-packs (actually, Legolas had to use bags of frozen peas, as they had run out of ice packs- most of them were for Pippin to use on his falling-down-the-stairs maladies.)

"Okay," Aragorn breathed. "Gandalf, you've calmed down?"

"Humph."

"Good. Legolas, you'll survive?"

"I suppose." The Elf looked almost comical (though no one dared tell him so) as he held a package of frozen peas to his forehead.

"Pippin? The bleeding will stop soon?"

"I hobe do," Pippin held a tissue to his nose with one hand and pinched the bridge of it with the other.

"Great. Someone want to tell me what happened?"

"Leglas dold be do go wage ub Gandalf," Pippin said thickly. "I dried an' dried bud he woul'n't, do I sang Gandalf god run over by a reindeer."

"You know how much I hate the song." Gandalf picked up the story, sounding almost sorry. Almost. "I hadn't woken up yet, so I didn't know what I was doing or why..."

"So are you going to apologize or what?" Legolas said tartly.

"Sorry, Legolas," Gandalf muttered sullenly. "Sorry Pippin."

"Forgiven."

"Forgibden."

Long pause.

"So!" Merry said brightly. "Can we open presents now?"

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A/N- more Christmas later. I'll just keep the holiday spirit going' till New Years! Well, maybe not. And if you didn't figure it out, I don't own Lord of the Rings. If I did, you'd know. Oh yes, you'd know. *evil cackle!* Okay, the lyrics to 'Gandalf got run over by a reindeer' are mine, as are the lyrics to Gimli's version of Jingle Bells. Um, the Elephant song is Sesame Street's; the Drinking Song is Tolkien's, the Salt Song is my friend's. Okay, that's enough disclaimers for the day. Most of it is painfully obvious, anyway. Cheers!