Miracles Do Happen

"Legoboy, can't you come down already?" Thranduil called up from the base of the tree Legolas was currently living in. "You're throwing off my groove."

"Sorry, dad," Legolas said from his spot up in the branches. "Staying in this tree is the only way to protect it!"

Legolas had only been living in the tree for a few hours, but he had already made himself comfortable with a blanket, a pillow, and a shelf full of food. True, he would have to postpone the nature hike he had planned, and he would have to miss out on his Treehugger's Club and Daddy Issues meetings, but it was better than letting his father chop down an innocent tree. He had allowed his father's antics to go on long enough, and it was about time somebody thwarted his insanity.

"Whatever, man," said Thranduil. "Gonna go hit up the convenience store and get me some more elf wine." He stumbled away, leaving Legolas to commune with nature in peace.

"Good riddance," Legolas muttered. He then proceeded to tell his new tree friend all about his life, including that time when he was an elfling and won the school archery competition, and the time several decades ago when his father forgot his birthday and ran off to go disco roller skating by himself.

"I really should move out," Legolas told the tree. "But if I leave Dad alone he'll probably end up getting arrested or something. Did you know that I have to remind him to put pants on every single morning? And he's always threatening to kidnap the dwarves who live down the street and stuff them into wine barrels. I don't like dwarves much either, but that's a little harsh, don't you think?"

The tree didn't reply, but Legolas could feel sympathy radiating from its branches.

"You know, all I really wanted was a good listener," said Legolas. "Everyone thinks I'm just a crazy, tree-loving elf, but I've got feelings too. I just choose to express them in a unique way!"

The tree's leaves rustled in the wind.

"I'm trying to improve work conditions for your fruit-bearing cousins," Legolas told it. "I might even organize a strike. You trees are lucky you've got someone like me who cares!"

His new friend didn't say anything, but Legolas chose to think that it was deeply grateful.

"My shift is over," Haldir informed Aragorn, who was hiding out in the Elf-in-the-Box kitchen drinking a chocolate Elf Shake. "You're going to have to leave."

Aragorn took a drag on his straw. "Are you guys hiring?"

Haldir was caught off guard. "What?"

"I said are you hiring? Estel could really use a job."

"There's no way that Estel, or any other of your ridiculous personalities could possibly get a job here, Aragorn. Your fleas alone would frighten all the customers away."

"I don't have fleas," Aragorn said seriously, then paused to scratch one of his arms.

"Sure you don't. Now I suggest you get your filthy self out of this restaurant before I decide to call the cops. Or worse, Galadriel."

Aragorn stubbornly remained where he was and finished the last of his Elf Shake. "You guys don't even have a fry cook anymore. What if I decided to clean up a little bit, maybe use shampoo once in a while? Then would you think about hiring me?"

"Impossible," Haldir declared.

"What's impossible?"

"You being clean."

"Hey, it could happen! I just need to learn how to take a bath, and then I'll be fine."

Suddenly Haldir got an idea, and he wanted to kick himself because it was probably the worst idea he had gotten since the time he tried smiling at a customer. The man had nightmares for days. "I think I have a solution," Haldir said with a sigh. "It's about time you've met my brothers."

Pippin had officially taken up residence at Merry's apartment, since he was tired of his parents sighing in his general direction, though he was still stuck sleeping on his cousin's couch. He came home first and wasn't surprised at all when ten minutes later, the front door burst open and Merry appeared in his police uniform, holding his gun out.

"Nope, I'm still not a burglar," Pippin informed him.

Merry put the gun down, looking disappointed. "If somebody did try to rob the place, you would call me, right?"

"Sure thing," Pippin lied. Personally he didn't see the appeal of threatening criminals at gunpoint and putting handcuffs on them, but he supposed he had always been the more sensitive type. Denethor would gleefully call him a sissy, but Denethor was a nutcase.

Merry decided to polish his police gear, which included his gun, taser, and walkie-talkie, while Pippin got himself a beer and fidgeted on the couch. "So..." he said uncomfortably. "Merry, can I ask you a question?"

"You're finally moving back in with your parents?" Merry asked hopefully.

"No. It's a little more... delicate than that."

"You didn't sell pipe-weed to underage hobbit children again, did you?"

"No, I'm past that phase, I swear!" Pippin continued fidgeting, unsure of how to word his question. "It's just, that... when you're working and everything, do you ever encounter any, you know, any lady hobbits?"

"Why? You hoping I can set you up with someone? Most of the ladies I meet are criminals, Pip."

Pippin now felt more awkward than ever; even more awkward than all those times his sisters had sleepovers and the house was filled with giggling girls who wanted to play dress-up with him. "Actually, no. I kind of already found a girl on my own. I met her today, actually."

Merry's attention was no longer on his gun, or any other object for that matter, and he smirked at Pippin. "This ought to be good. The only time you've ever dated was when you were ten and a neighborhood girl invited you to her tea party."

"Don't rub it in," muttered Pippin. "What should I do? She barely even knows I exist!"

"How did you meet her then?"

"Her name's Diamond. She works behind the counter at McDeagol's and paid for my burger when I didn't have enough money. She said I was holding up the line."

"Sounds romantic," said Merry.

Pippin glared at him. "Like you could do any better."

"I know I could do better. I just happen to have a career to focus on."

"Well I'll make you a bet. If I get Diamond to date me within a week, you have to sleep on the couch and I get the bed for a month."

"And if you lose?" asked Merry.

"If I don't get her to date me, I'll... I'll give up second breakfast for a month!"

"You have yourself a deal, Pip."

The two of them shook hands, sealing the bet, and Pippin knew he would be in serious trouble if he lost. Second breakfast was everything to him.

"Dude," said Rumil, looking at Haldir in mild horror. "You've finally gone crazy."

"Maybe it's not the real Haldir standing on our doorstep right now," said Orophin. "It could be an imposter Haldir."

"Thanks a lot, you two," said Haldir, giving both his brothers a Condescending Glare. "I am not an imposter and I have not gone crazy, for your information. Elf-in-the-Box desperately needs a new fry cook and I need you to help make him suitable."

Aragorn, who stood next to Haldir, looked guiltily down at the dirt he had tracked onto the welcome mat. "I would really appreciate the help, you guys."

"Dude, don't you have several jobs?" Rumil asked him. "Couldn't you like, afford to buy enough soap to last you for fifty years?"

"Actually, none of those jobs are real," Aragorn confessed, looking even guiltier. "I'm not really a doctor or a park ranger or anything else. I'm just a guy who never learned how to use soap and water."

"It appears your life has reached new levels of failure," Haldir remarked. "Which means I have no choice but to force you to change your sorry ways. Rumil, Orophin. You know what to do."

Rumil and Orophin led a nervous looking Aragorn off to the bathroom, while Haldir sat down on the couch and lost himself in Half as Well as You Deserve, a Frodo Baggins novel Gimli had lent him at the club meeting. "So Mr. Baggins does have a sense of humor," said Haldir, chuckling casually (for he rarely laughed outright) at a particularly clever paragraph.

"What on earth is that?" said Aragorn's voice, coming from the bathroom.

"Lilac scented bubble bath!" said Orophin's voice. "It will help you smell socially acceptable."

"Isn't it kind of girly? No offense."

"Real men use bubble bath," Orophin said firmly. "Now get in the tub."

Haldir allowed himself another casual chuckle as he listened to the ordeal happening in the bathroom ("No, Aragorn, shampoo is not poisonous, I swear!") and paged through his book. His brothers had done a disastrous job on Faramir when they attempted to upgrade him, but Haldir had a feeling this project with Aragorn would be a success. The sheer amusement alone would be worth it.

Rumil and Orophin spent over an hour on Aragorn, and Haldir finished his novel by the time Aragorn trudged out into the living room, looking sulky, while Rumil and Orophin looked triumphant. The change in Aragorn was astounding: all of the dirt and grime had been washed away, his hair had been neatly trimmed, and he was attired in clean clothes.

Rumil nudged Aragorn in the side. "How do you feel, bro? Like a changed man?"

"I'm pretty sure I'm allergic to this deodorant," Aragorn said unhappily.

"It's good for you," said Orophin. "Like eating your vegetables."

Haldir arched a favorable eyebrow at the new-and-improved Aragorn. "Looks like you'll be starting work tomorrow morning. Don't be late."

Satisfied that his brothers had done a job well done, he flicked on the television and watched the new Wal-Mart commercial.

Samwise Gamgee strolled down the aisles as usual with his hands behind his back. "You know what you can boil, mash, and stick in a stew?"

He brought his hands out, holding a potato in each one. "Why, taters of course! And you know where you can find the very best taters? Only at Wal-Mart!"