Mistaken Identity

Haldir looked at his watch and sighed with relief. His shift was finally over and he could go home. After taking orders from a hobbit couple with ten kids, an elf with several kinds of food allergies, and a dwarf who tried to pay for his meal with metal bottle caps from old Coke bottles, Haldir was thoroughly exhausted and looked forward to taking a long nap. Of course, that wasn't as simple as it sounded when he lived with two pesky brothers, but Haldir could always threaten to shave their heads in their sleep. That threat always worked with Orophin, who worked as a hairdresser (which was a perfectly manly profession according to Orophin), and Rumil, who played in a garage band and somehow managed to earn some spare change and an abundance of neighborhood elf groupies.

Once his hat and apron were removed, Haldir walked out into Elf-in-the-Box's parking lot and planned to hit the bus stop, but a hand suddenly reached out and tapped him on the shoulder. Startled, Haldir turned around and saw Celeborn standing behind him, looking awkward in a stoic kind of way. "What's up, Celeborn? Did I leave my cell phone behind?"

"No." Celeborn's eyes darted from side to side nervously, and he steered Haldir in the direction of a minivan parked near the restaurant. Once the two of them were safely behind the van Celeborn spoke up again. "I think my wife is cheating on me."

Haldir pretended to look surprised. "Oh really? With who?"

"She's been paying a lot of visits to the dwarf who lives down the street. Ever since he came knocking on our door one day and asked for some of Galadriel's hair, he's been a total pest. Look, Haldir, can you do me a favor and spy on them tomorrow night?"

"Well… I…"

"Thanks, pal." Celeborn gave Haldir a friendly clap on the back. "I knew I could count on you."

"But I—"

"I'll call you tomorrow and give you the details, okay? You're the best friend an elf could ask for, buddy."

"Great," Haldir muttered after Celeborn slunk away and snuck back into the restaurant. Suddenly an evening spent with Rumil and Orophin didn't sound so bad, even if he had to listen to Rumil's poor excuse for guitar playing and smell Orophin's cherry scented bubble bath (which was perfectly manly, thank you very much, as Orophin would insist). At least he was getting his paycheck in a couple of days.

Pippin got up bright and early the next morning, deeply regretting the six-pack of beer he shared with Faramir the night before. He wanted to go halves since friendship was about equality and all that, but somehow he ended up with four beers and Faramir only had two, and now Pippin was paying for it in the morning. Gondorian Motors opened at eight o'clock sharp and if Pippin was late for work by even five seconds, Denethor would surely light him on fire, or at least scowl menacingly at him until his self-esteem completely crumbled. Pippin forced some aspirin down his throat and hopped into the shower at lightning speed to avoid this scenario.

Maybe he should take Merry's advice and quit drinking so much. Either that or learn how to divide, because four and two were certainly not halves. Pippin flunked out of his high school math class for a reason.

He was in such a hurry to get to work on time that he only managed to eat one breakfast instead of two, and he was starving by the time he reached Gondorian Motors and reported to Denethor's office. The office walls were covered in fancy car posters and framed pictures of Denethor's oldest son Boromir, who worked as assistant manager. Pippin once asked why there were no pictures of Faramir on the walls and Denethor refused to speak to him for the rest of the day.

"Get to work, Peregrin Took!" Denethor ordered the moment Pippin entered his office. "I don't pay you to stand around!"

Pippin twitched. He hated getting called by his full name. It always, always, always meant that he was in trouble. It had been Peregrin Took this and Peregrin Took that ever since he came home from college three weeks ago upon getting expelled. He would never hear the end of it. Pippin didn't mean to accidentally set the dorms on fire, but sometimes these things happened, and now he was considered a Disgrace to the Family Name. After yelling at him, threatening to disown him, and taking away second breakfast for a week, his father finally decided that Pippin needed something that would keep him both out of the house and out of trouble: he needed a job.

And thus Pippin was at Gondorian Motors working for the irritable father of one of his friends. Not the greatest job in the world, but it was better than staying at home all day and getting scolded by his parents and his sisters when they dropped by to visit.

"Every male in the Took family has graduated from Tuckborough University, with honors," his father had informed him after Pippin got expelled. Sometimes Pippin really hated being a "little rich boy" as Boromir sometimes called him. He had so much to live up to and all he wanted to do was enjoy his youth and have fun, for the love of Eru.

Holding back a sigh, Pippin left Denethor's office and shuffled off to work.

Haldir was trying to relax on the couch with a good book (Arachnophobia: a hobbit's tale by Frodo Baggins) but that was impossible when the giant treehouse he shared with his brothers was invaded by noises of every kind. Rumil was in his bedroom playing Guitar Hero at full volume, Orophin was on the phone attempting (loudly) to give hair advice to their neighbor Elrond, and somebody was outside banging on the door. Thoroughly irritated, Haldir set Frodo's latest novel aside and got up to answer the door.

"Hi there, Haldir. Would you like to join my Treehugger's Club?" asked Legolas, who stood outside the door wearing a shirt that featured a tree with a giant heart around it.

"You already asked me yesterday," said Haldir. "And I said no."

Legolas thrust out his bottom lip and looked at Haldir pleadingly. "Please? I need to gain more members or I'll be the laughingstock of the neighborhood."

"How many members do you have exactly?"

"Sam joined. So did Treebeard and Tom Bombadil. Tom wanted to write a theme song for the club but I told him it isn't necessary."

"Well, I'm not interested." Haldir shut the door and tried to find the page he left off in his novel. "That Frodo Baggins sure knows how to write angst like an expert."

Rumil was still trying to hit a high score on Guitar Hero and Orophin was still on the phone ("I'm telling you, Elrond, braids aren't stylish anymore!") but Haldir did his best to block it out. He was able to read five pages without a break when a sudden knock came at the door.

"Not again," Haldir grumbled. "It better not be one of those door-to-door salesdwarves with lumps of rock for sale." He frowned and opened the door.

"Hi there, Haldir. Would you like to join my Treehugger's Club?" asked Legolas.

Haldir blinked. "You just asked me ten minutes ago."

"I did?" said Legolas, going wide-eyed with surprise.

"Yes, Legolas. You did."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. Now get off my property." Haldir promptly shut the door and returned to his book again.

Ten minutes later a knock came at the door and Haldir nearly ripped his book apart in his frustration. Putting on his most Condescending Glare, he got up and opened the door again.

"Hi there, Haldir. Would you like—"

"LEGOLAS, WHAT DID I TELL YOU?"

Pippin considered buying a pair of stilts with his first paycheck. He was tall for a hobbit, but most of the cars were taller than him and it was embarrassing. He had to scramble up onto the hood of one of Gondorian Motors' latest models just so the customers could see him, and trying to sell big wheel pickup trucks was a nightmare. Maybe he should have gotten a job at 7-11 instead.

Pippin soon realized that he couldn't let his height (or lack of height) detain him from being a Successful Car Salesman. After watching Boromir flirt with some lady elves in an attempt to sell them a convertible sports car, he decided that he needed to be charming, and short people were certainly more charming than tall people.

"Why hello there," Pippin drawled enticingly as he sat on the hood of an expensive car. "You look like you could use some new wheels."

"Pippin, what are you doing?" asked Aragorn, who had just arrived at the car lot.

"I work here now," said Pippin, winking at Aragorn. "Care to give this baby a ride?" He stroked the shiny hood of the car. "Come on, you know you want to."

"Actually I need a new jeep for my park ranger personality." Aragorn worked several different jobs under several different names, much to the confusion of everyone who knew him. "Strider crashed the old jeep into a tree the other day. Do you have any cheap ones in stock?"

"Let me go check. You wait here and get acquainted while I'm gone." Pippin tossed another wink at Aragorn and looked suggestively down at the car he was sitting on, then slid off the hood and trotted off to check the jeep records.

Aragorn strolled about the car lot, whistling to himself and wondering what possessed Denethor to hire Pippin of all people. He was in the middle of admiring his reflection in the mirror of a pickup truck when somebody came up behind him and started clearing his throat. Aragorn spun around to face Legolas, who eyed him sternly with his hands on his hips.

"Hey, Lego," said Aragorn. "What's up?"

Legolas' stern expression didn't waver. "You can't win me over with the friendly act, Aragorn. You know what you did."

"No, I don't, actually. What have I done?"

"That poor tree!" Legolas wailed. "The one you hit with the jeep! Luckily he only received minor wounds but he's psychologically traumatized. Took me an hour just to calm him down."

"Legolas, you're talking about a tree. And that wasn't me who hit it. It was Strider."

"You're Strider, and you know it!"

"Well it was an accident, okay? It won't happen again."

"You also backed into a tree while getting out of a parking lot last week," Legolas informed him coldly.

"That wasn't me! It was Elessar!"

"You're Elessar!"

Fortunately Pippin trotted up before Legolas could make any more accusations of tree abuse, and Aragorn had never been happier to see the hobbit. "We've got a few jeeps in stock you might be interested in," Pippin said cheerfully. "Oh, hi there, Legolas. Are you coming over to join me and Faramir in our fatherly complaint session? Sam is probably showing up as well. At this rate I could start my very own support group."

"Sure, might as well show up," said Legolas. "Sam and I have important club business to discuss. We'll continue this conversation later, Aragorn, or Strider, or whatever you call yourself." And he marched haughtily away.

"What was that all about?" asked Pippin.

"Long story," said Aragorn. "Now let's take a look at those jeeps, shall we?"

Celeborn called Haldir up in the afternoon and provided the details for his Super Secret Spy Mission. "You're going to sneak over to Gimli's house at seven o'clock sharp," Celeborn explained. "It's the little stone house with garden gnomes in the yard. You can't miss it."

"Right," said Haldir, trying not to sound as unenthusiastic as he felt. "And then what?"

"As soon as my wife enters the house I want you to find a window to spy from and find out what she and that pesky little dwarf get up to. Then report back to me after she leaves."

"Celeborn, don't you think this is all a little extreme? Can't you just confront Galadriel and talk to her about it?"

"You don't know what it's like to live with her, Haldir," Celeborn sobbed into the phone. "I can't talk to her about anything. She either contradicts everything that I say or turns blue and scary when she doesn't like the subject. Spying is the only way to deal with this."

"Whatever you say," Haldir muttered. He hung up and picked up another Frodo Baggins novel, How to Live a Successful Life With Only Nine Fingers: based on a true story.

"Who were you talking to, bro?" Rumil asked, strolling into the living room with his guitar case slung over one shoulder.

"Just a co-worker," said Haldir. "Keep the noise down, will you? I'm trying to read. And tell Orophin not to buy so much shampoo next time he does the shopping. The bathroom is getting cluttered."

"Sure, whatever," said Rumil, nodding his head as he pretended to listen. "I'm gonna go practice with the guys."

"Brothers," Haldir muttered to himself as Rumil walked out the door.