Disclaimer: I do not own Middle-earth or any characters conjured up from the brilliant mind of J.R.R. Tolkien.

A/N: This chapter radioactively mutated into: A CIRCUS!  Actually, I have no idea. lol.  Hope you enjoy this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it! :O)

My Head Hurts

Part III:

Love, Peace, and Chicken Grease

Legolas made another appalled face when he saw who had placed his grimy hands over the wizard's mouth. 

I think I'm going to be sick...

Gandalf looked as if he was about to pass out as well until whoever it was removed their hand so he could properly breath again.

"Never in my long years have I ever felt such a foul distasting thing remotely close to my mouth!  Well, that is, if you don't count the time when Bilbo's hairy foot almost got caught - I mean, uhh...never mind," he tried shaking the disturbing image away and grimaced at Aragorn when he came near.

"It would be wise to hold off on your conjuring, old wizard.  Didn't you read Part I?  It stated that Legolas is a vital member of the Fellowship.  Why, is still beyond me...  Just because he has much keener eyes and ears doesn't make the rest of us blind and hard of hearing, you know."

"Yes, that's true," agreed Gandalf.

"Sorry, what? I didn't quite hear what you said, mind repeating that again?" he replied with a confused look on his face.  More confused than Pippin when asked the trick question, "Howlong is a Hobbit's name," by Gimli.  The poor Took spent countless of hours trying to measure his name, Frodo's name, Sam's name, and Merry's name with a twig while the Dwarf rolled on the ground with laughter.

When Pippin finally got the joke, Sam hesitatingly asked, "So...how long is it?" sending the son of Glóin into more fits of giggles.

"Anyways, ahem, back to me," Aragorn rolled his eyes at the author [author: "Sorry!"] then continued, "So, as I was saying, save the really good spells for later.  I might need you to teach me an incantation or two.  It looks as if Legolas is itching to write another threatening letter."

"And what makes you say this?" asked Gandalf.

Aragorn rolled his eyes again (but this time at the wizard), "Well, if you were looking in the same direction as me, then maybe you would see him.  Derrr!" he pointed to where the Elf was sitting. 

"Oh," Gandalf stupidly laughed then said, "Wait a minute. What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be out ruling Gondor or rolling in the dirt somewhere?"

"Nah, Gondor will be fine.  I taped a sign on my throne that said: 'OUT TO LUNCH, BE BACK IN 5.'  And, well, the snow had made muck out of the dirt.  All the protein has been stripped away so there's no point in it now, really.  Besides, this journey of yours should be a lot more interesting so I thought I'd tag along."

"This is not a journey, Elessar. We are merely trying to get to the therapist for Legolas' session.  That is it."

"Well, at the rate you two are going, it will probably take you months, even years, to reach your destination thus turning this into a journey!"

"Hmm, yes, good point," he agreed again then turned to face Legolas.

He was hunched over in the corner hiding in the shadows with parchment paper and a quill in his hand trying to scribble down Aragorn's name. 

Those Humans and their careless spelling with our names...dyslexic the lot of 'em! *shakes head in disappointment* Now, how did he spell his name again? Arrogant? Aracorn? Acorn? Arathorn?  No wait. That was his father... *scratches out name* Ahh! It's so hard without spell check here in Middle-earth.  I really should see Eru about this.

Legolas was also covering the paper much too secretly well for them to see, like the nerd in math class that everyone hovered over to copy their tests from.  "Well, it could also be an apology letter, you know," guessed Gandalf.  "Maybe he's trying to perfect it before it is read?"

"Apology letter my open-toed boot!" Aragorn mockingly laughed.  "Look down."

The wizard did as he was told and looked down.  He gave the Ranger a strange look for one of his toes was actually visible from his boot, wiggling happily in the open air.  The Maia swore it was saying, 'Ahhh, freedom at last!'

I think I'm going to be sick...

"No, not down there.  Down there!" he pointed again at Legolas.  The prince had also scribbled 'Dy Arrogant! Di Aracorn! Die Arathorn!' then 'Die Arathorn. No. You're already dead', on the wall.

"Oh, well, at least he was able to finally spell the word 'die' correctly...without spell check."

"Well, I suppose you're right," Aragorn nodded then placed his hand on his chin with Gandalf following in pursuit.

"Ya."

"Yaa."

"Yaaa."

"Yaaaa."

"Yaaaaa."

"Will YA shaddup already?!" Legolas yelled in frustration as he finally got off the floor. "This is not an Austin Powers story, man!" he reminded them. "I can't concentrate.  I'll finish this later," he said as he stuffed the paper and quill back in his inner tunic.

"Yeah, baby!" someone couldn't help but pipe.

Legolas looked up and glared at them both.  They pretended that neither one of them said anything and whistled it off.  "You two start moving. Now," he pointed down another, yup, you guessed it, corridor. "If we're lucky we'll get there before dusk." 

I hooope! 

I can feel it in my bones that another author is plotting to create a new story in which I father her Human children in secrecy and flee into some poorly made up 'Elven realm' called Legolaswuvsme Woods where we live happawie ever after.

AHHH! Even worse, what if...what if she starts referring to me as her 'baby-daddy' to her friends?! 

Nooooooo! 

The horror!

Alright, that's it...

Now, I'm really going to be sick...

"Are you alright, Legolas?" asked the Ranger.

"Wha? Oh, yes...I'll...I'll be fine," he gulped the sensation down to the pit of his stomach.

"You sure?  You don't look so well.  I mean, with your right eye twitching and all."

"Yup.  Just great," his eye twitched again.  "No worries.  Let's continue."

Aragorn just shrugged his shoulders after giving the Elf his 'someone's-turned-into-a-nutcase' look, leaving him behind them, as they were a few paces ahead. 

He leaned in a little closer to Gandalf so Legolas wouldn't be able to hear their conversation (or least he hoped he wouldn't hear) and whispered, "I don't know about you but sometimes I think that if we had minimized the Fellowship into just, let's say, us - me, you, and Boromir we could have reached Mordor ourselves a looong time ago.  Well, maybe not Boromir.  He doesn't have that big of a fan base among them as Legolas.  Neither do you.  Wait.  What's his name again?  Gimli son of Groin?  Whatever.  You can rule him out, too.  Alright, then, since I am the closest in the 'hunk' department next to the Elf, I - alone - could have taken the One Ring there and destroyed it."

Gandalf's staff was starting to slightly shake. 

"Boromir was suppose to be dead, anyway, so, what was that phrase that Humans often used?" he thought for a moment then smiled, "Oh, yes!  Sucks to be him!  You, also, Maia, you came back as Gandalf the White but judging from the lack of proper hygiene, there wasn't really any point in you changing your robes since they still look awfully black.  Not dirty white black but just black.  Really black. Like black!" 

"Speak for yourself, you grease infested son of a..." muttered the wizard.  His staff began to shake again.

"I mean, with all these lust-overdosed Human girls lurking around in their secret boot camp preparing to attack, you'd think those two vertically challenged Halflings would think of running in the direction of the Black Land.  But, nooo... they just had to run around in circles panicking like they were only going to be fed three meals a day!" 

"Hmm...yes..."

"And, honestly, if you ask me, barely being the same storyline with my lovely Arwen, I wouldn't really mind the skirt-wearing-eyes-fluttering-all-talented-all-perfect-in-every-way-shape-and-form Mary -- "

POW! BANG! CRASH! BOOM! and THUD!

Aragorn flew across the corridor with a nice crisp landing against the wall due to someone's brittle, but yet, powerful staff.

"What? What! What'd I say?! What'd I say?!"

"Thank you! Finally!" he rolled his eyes with relief.

"You're welcome," he happily beamed.  "Here you go, Gandalf," Legolas handed him back his staff. 

With his stealthy movements, the prince lunged for the wizard's staff and finally used it to his advantage.  He didn't necessarily mind his ranting so much, just mostly wanted to see how far he could toss the Ranger.  And, since of course he could hear what he was saying (he's an Elf, what did you expect?), he could use Aragorn's mentioning of 'wouldn't really mind' and 'Mary --' in the same sentence as his defense for attacking, thinking he was possessed by a great evil that forced him to say such things.  

"And, I was also reading along, too!" he grinned widely at the readers.  "Sorry about that, Aragorn.  You know, reflexes and all," he flashed him an innocent smile then snickered with the wizard after turning his back.

"Are you two finished giggling like a bunch Human school girls at a slumber party or are you actually going to help me up?" he huffed.

They looked at him then back at each other again and fell into a quick debate on who should be the one to help him or whether or not they actually should help him.

"Anytime this Age, even though I don't know what Age this story is taking place in, would really help!" he threw his hands in the air.

"Oh, alright, fine," Legolas pouted after losing at 'paper, rock, scissors'.  "I'll help you.  Just stop whining like Sam when Frodo told him he could no longer watch him bathe in the river," he extended his hand and helped him to his feet.  Once the Ranger was up and standing again he brushed the dust off of his clothes.

Legolas looked him up and down with an eyebrow raised, wondering why he even bothered seeing how dust and dirt already clung to him like a second skin.  The facial hair, too.  Gross.  Another filthy beard.  By the looks of it, Aragorn didn't seem to need Narsil as his weapon against the enemy.  All he had to do was scrape his face against his opponent.  That would surely leave a mark greater than any sharp metal object.

Ouch...

The Elven-prince now took the rear end of the three walkers headed towards the therapist's study (if they could ever find it).  Something else kept bothering him and he couldn't quite place where that sticky feeling he had was.  He was about to throw his hair back over his shoulder when he suddenly saw his hand glistening in the reflection of the candle's light.  Examining it closer, his face changed from its normal fair color to the colors of the rainbow then to the colors you normally wouldn't find in a Crayola box.

It was dirt, oil, and grease meshed into one, producing a new un-Middle-earthly substance.  Wondering what he could have touched, he saw Aragorn run his fingers through his hair.  Then he passed out.

End of Chapter

By the way, I swear I've heard/read the word 'Legolaswuvsme' somewhere before and probably subconsciously remembered it and made it my own.  Hee-hee.  If someone else has claim on this word, then it's all yours! Credit to (your name here) ____________.  Thanks!

On to Part IV!