The Further Adventures of Legolas and Gimli
“Trees, trees everywhere. It feels as though the trees have eyes,” Gimli grumbled.
“Indeed, we are being tracked,” whispered Legolas, “it’s as I feared. Three girls, in skimpy tunics and mini skirts.”
“Is there any hope of escape?”
“We may yet be able to out run them. Swiftly Gimli, to the river, the falls will mess up their hair and delay them!”
They traveled at top speed over hill, valley, rock and fern. Behind them they heard the shrill cry of the crazed Legolas fans, and fear hastened their feet. Through gully and peak, and a set of really nasty brambles, the two friends rushed, pausing only to empty their shoes of rocks. Once across the river they paused for breath.
“Fourteen point six miles!” Gimli declared triumphantly.
“Your stride must be wrong, I’m at ten point two,” said Legolas.
“What makes you so sure it’s my stride that’s wrong, master elf?”
“Long have the elves known the wisdom of pedometers, and were it not for our friendship the technology would never have been shared with the dwarven kind.”
“Your grandeur does not impress me. It is the dwarves-“ Gimli silenced abruptly as Legolas leapt up and readied his bow. A high pitched giggle came from the wriggling bushes.
“The worst thing about them is that they know no fear,” Legolas said.
“If you would just let me shoot one…” grumbled Gimli.
The bush laughed, and from behind it stepped Faramir. “Paranoid master elf, you need to lighten up.”
“That wasn’t funny,” said Legolas stiffly. “You could have been injured.”
“You’d never hurt one of your adoring fans, if you did, you wouldn’t have adoring fans anymore.”
“That would be a great blessing,” said Legolas. “So what brings you to the middle of nowhere?”
“Grave matters, I’m afraid. The king is taking his vacation days, and we need him back.”
“And what matters so urgently require King Aragorn?” Ask Gimli.
“Edge Of The Knife Quests is sponsoring a tournament, and we need Aragorn’s signature to hold it at the city formerly known as Minas Morgul. It’s the opportunity to jump start the Mordor tourism industry that we’ve been looking for!”
“How long do we have?” Gimli ask.
“Until dawn on the fifth day, when we must return the documents to the east.”
“Let us go then, we have no time to waste,” exclaimed Legolas.
“So where are we going?” Gimli ask presently.
“I’m not sure,” said Faramir. “I was hoping you two might have some idea.”
They walked on in silence for a while.
“If you ask my opinion,” started Gimli.
“Which you note we’re not,” interjected Legolas.
“It would seem pointless to travel if we don’t know where we are going,” continued Gimli. “Now, if I were Lord Aragorn, where would I be?”
“You wouldn’t be anywhere now, but you will be in the most convenient place when we most need you,” said Legolas thoughtfully.
“So,” said Faramir, “if he’s going to turn up anyway, the question becomes, ‘where would we like to be?”
A bone chilling scream pierced through the air. The three wanderers looked to the hills, and there stood a heard of girls, young and old alike. “Those aren’t any of the Mearas, even if my eyes do deceive me,” shouted Gimli.
“Ai! Ai!” Wailed Legolas, “a fan club! A fan club is come!”
“Now I understand,” muttered Faramir. “There is no time for one-liners! Run!”
Just at that moment from the rocks sprung a very ratty looking creature wielding a firebrand. The fan club members screamed and fled. You could hear the ripping of stitches as the clothes they were wearing were not designed for such hasty movement. “Aragorn,” cried Faramir as he rushed forward and gave the king a very manly embrace.
“My friends, happy is the hour in which we meet again,” said Aragorn. “but none the less, this place is not safe, we must make haste, and keep vigilant watch.”
Aragorn looked truly, broodingly happy as he led them to a thick patch of brambles. “Grave will be the day when the forces of overzealous fans will pursue us even into the most clothes-mussing of places.” They waded through the brambles and Gimli found the hair ribbon Legolas had lost the first time they went through the patch.
“Many thanks, my friend,” said Legolas.
“If I were you, I would consider shaving my head,” suggested Gimli.
Legolas looked absolutely stricken at the thought.
“Such an alteration of appearance may indeed throw off our pursuers,” said Faramir. “Or you may consider King Aragorn’s example.”
“And which example would that be?” Inquired Aragorn.
“Stop washing your hair.”
Legolas looked absolutely green and sat down on a rock. “You really think it’s my hair?” He ask.
All three of them nodded solemnly. “At the very least, it will help,” Faramir said.
Legolas fingered his hair. “It will grow back,” Gimli said.
“I know this in my mind, but my heart cannot seem to grasp it,” Legolas said.
“I will help you bear this burden,” said Aragorn.
“Are you shaving your head?” Ask Legolas.
“No.”
Legolas snorted.
“There’s no need to get angry,” said Faramir.
“If I am, it’s a perfectly reasonable emotion,” said Legolas. “It’s mine, it grew on my head, why shouldn’t I keep it? Mine, my own, my precious!”
A distant shriek sent shivers down everyone’s spine. Distant figures appeared on the horizon. The companions shuddered.
“You are right, I must shave my head,” said Legolas with a dejected sigh.
“You carry the fate of us all, Legolas,” said Faramir.
“I know what it is I must do, it’s just that I am afraid to do it.”
Four figures snuck into the citadel the next evening. They were crossing the hall when they were met by two imposing women, one fair as morning, one as beautiful as the starry night. Both had the fierceness of the noonday battle sun.
“How kind of you to return, Lord Faramir,” said Eowyn.
“Nice of you to leave a letter, Aragorn,” Arwen said.
Aragorn and Faramir looked at each other in dismay. Legolas and Gimli smirked and sniggered quietly. “Eh, there was a reason for my departure in haste,” said Faramir.
“Indeed there was a reason. You don’t want to deal with Executive Ethor. So you left me to deal with him,” Eowyn said.
“I had to find Aragorn,” Faramir protested.
“I have the distinct feeling that he found you. Doubtless in the middle of a hopeless situation.”
“Actions will heal what words cannot,” declared Legolas. “We have returned safely, and are now fully prepared to deal with Executives of any branch or power.”
“Legolas,” said Arwen, “why are you wearing that stupid hat?”
Legolas mumbled something in Elvish and reach up to remove the hat. “Brace yourself, lady, it’s something of a shock,” said Gimli.
Eowyn gasp and Arwen’s mouth fell open as they saw the ‘new’ Legolas incognito.
“We had to do it,” Aragorn said. “The fans were more numerous than Crebain on a Saruman Celebration day.” Legolas but the hat back on his head and looked depressed. “He’s been taking the loss rather hard.”
“Strangers form distant lands, friends of old! You are summoned here to answer the challenge of Edge of the Knife Quests. Middle Earth has stepped beyond the brink of destruction, everyone escaped it, we have united, and did not fall. Each race is invited to this tournament, this huge celebration. Bring forth the trophies, Aragorn!” Ben Ethor had the phoniest smile of the age as Aragorn stepped up to the platform carrying the tournament trophies. “Simply fabulous, thank you King Aragorn! I have the pleasure of announcing our host, Aragorn, King of Middle Earth!” The crowd erupted into cheers as the king waved feebly. “I also have the honor of presenting his faithful comrades, Lord Faramir and Lady Eowyn,” many cheers and hoorays, “Gimli son of Gloin,” much shouting and stomping of feet, “and last but not least, Prince Legolas!” The crowd goes silent. “That’s not him!” Somebody yells. The companions turn and look at Legolas. “Absolutely amazing,” he said.
As the shadows lengthened, Legolas became positively giddy with his new found anonymity. He sauntered about the tournament fearlessly, lugging Gimli behind him. “Watch this Gimli,” he said. He walked up to group of girls. “Good evening ladies,” he said. They looked at him, looked at each other, and moved away. “Did you see that? I’m just an ordinary fool.”
“Certainly you are a fool. All that proves is that not even Legolas can get away with a lame entrance such as that,” said Gimli. “Looks have nothing to do with it. It’s all in the style.”
“And I’ve seen no style from you,” said Legolas.
They were interrupted by the clear ringing of silver trumpets. Ben Ethor stood on the platform and waved at all the people. “Nobody’s ever said much for the intuition of the Dwarves,” said Gimli, “but at the very best I do not think well of this Ben Ethor creature.”
“Well said, my friend,” said Legolas. “A shadow and a threat has been growing on my mind something grows near.”
Ben Ethor cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted to the crowd, “my dear Gondorians and Rohirrim, Elves and Dwarves, Hobbits, Easterlings, Southrons, Haradrim, and Dunlandings! Today is the first of the Minas Ithil tournaments! But alas, the realm of Mordor has been quiet for far too long. I don’t rule half of you half as much as I should like, but I could control you half as well as you deserve! I have a media to take over! I’ve put this off for far too long! I am happy to announce that this is the beginning, I am going to control all of your minds now, and I bid you all a very happy future. Goodbye free will!”
“Gimli!” Legolas shouted over the pandemonium, “Ben Ethor is going to a create a media that dissolves our free will and instills us all with the fear of ‘what will others think of us’!”
“That will destroy everything that Middle Earth means!” Cried Gimli, “we must stop him!”
Meanwhile, Ben Ethor had lit the stage on fire and was leaping about, singing an awful, yet catchy tune. “Yeah I’m a rock star, and I make millions of gold pieces!” He bellowed. “But that’s not enough for me! I’m going to be an actor too! I’m going to own the world! Everybody will buy my clothing designs, even though I’m the only one who looks good in them!” He leaped about in glee. “Even when I’m a hundred years old, people will still attend my concerts, because I’m ME!”
Legolas jumped up onto the stage and doused the flames with water while Gimli tackled Ben Ethor. The crow went wild. As Aragorn and Faramir wrestled Ben Ethor off stage, dozens of girls began to flood the platform and surround Legolas. “Hey,” he objected, “you don’t even know who I am!”
“Yes we do,” said one of the girls, “you’re a fire fighter!” The girls shrieked, and Legolas fled.
Late in the evening the companions rested at Henneth Annun, Faramir’s refuge of old. Ben Ethor was being escorted to the executive dungeons at Minas Tirith, and all was well. Well, almost all was well.
“Why such a heavy heart, Legolas?” Ask Aragorn.
“My fate is clear to me, and all hope is lost,” said Legolas.
“Aye,” said Eowyn, “against such a power, there can be no victory.”
“Tough to be you,” agreed Gimli. “But come, my friend. We have great things to do, and no number of bare midriffs have ever stopped a dwarf!”