How To Drive An Elf Insane
Summary: How do you drive an elf to the point of insanity? If your name is Peregrin Took, you get him to take you along to search for that elusive athelas bush, and then you bombard him with questions, from "Do elves repel dirt?" to "How are babies made?" No slash. Enjoy:P
A/N: This fic takes place just after Rivendell (remember the scene in FOTR when Aragorn is showing the hobbits how to use their swords at the camp, and then Boromir whacks Pip and then they all dive on him, heehee? THAT place, lol :), so the Fellowship don't know each other that well, which would explain why Pip is asking so many questions.
"Yes, Pippin?" groaned the elf in question. Both he and the hobbit were out collecting some herbs that Aragorn wanted, and Legolas was seriously beginning to regret taking Peregrin along. Aragorn was back at camp, instructing Merry, Frodo and Sam on the art of swordplay. Pippin was seated atop Bill and Legolas was walking beside the pony, carrying the basket. Aragorn had asked them "to be careful, as unfriendly beings could be on the prowl," but Legolas couldn't sense anything. They were going pitifully slowly on account of Pippin, who kept sighting imaginary herbs. The young Took would then proceed to wave, point and squeak excitedly, and then he would lean way over on Bill's back and make a wild lunge for something in mid air, which was certainly an odd place for herbs to grow. The hobbit had decided to ride bareback, and so this combination of movements would successfully get his balance beyond the point of no return, and he would topple to the ground with a loud thump and an even louder wail of "OUCH!" This had now happened at least four times. Legolas was not at all amused, and their basket was still empty. Why did Aragorn have to have athelas! Legolas groaned.
"Are elves always this gloomy?" Pippin asked.
"I'm not gloomy!" Legolas protested, "I was just thinking," the elf scowled at the hobbit, "until you so rudely interrupted me."
"Oh, sorry. What were you thinking about?" Pippin inquired innocently.
"That is none of your business!" In actual fact Legolas had been, and still was, thinking about how much he would love to wring Peregrin's neck, and he was indeed very gloomy. No, 'gloomy' was not the word. 'Grumpy', more like it. Legolas ground his teeth.
"Why are you always so clean? I find it practically impossible to stay dirt free. Do elves repel dirt or something?"
"No, Pippin, they do not. It is a simple matter of taking regular baths, and actually washing oneself. Perhaps you should try the routine more often."
"Ah, I see." The hobbit began to pluck strands of hair from Bill's mane. At first, the pony's ears merely went back in annoyance, but when his rider did not heed these very clear warning signals, the little chestnut put his head between his legs, and kicked his hind ones out in a tremendous buck, making Legolas jump back in alarm. "Ai!"
Pippin went sailing through the air, screaming shrilly all the while, describing a graceful arc before landing with a thump in a bramble bush. Bill spooked and cantered off across the plain, leaping heather bushes and boulders. He came to a halt a short distance away, pricking his ears and neighing at the hobbit in the brambles. To Pippin, this sounded like laughter, and covered with thorns and rather sore, he burst into tears.
Legolas rolled his eyes. He could see that there was not much wrong with the hobbit, and so he hooked his basket around his elbow and went slowly toward Bill, murmuring soothingly to him in elvish. Reaching the pony, the elf petted him gently and took hold of his bridle. He led Bill back to Pippin. "Well, go on, get out of the brambles!" Legolas exclaimed, most annoyed.
Peregrin was still in tears. "C-c-c-can't," he sobbed, "F-full of p-prickles, and, and it hurts! Hic!"
"I'll give you a hand then," Legolas sighed, exasperated.
Sniffing, Pippin held out a prickly and rather scratched hand. "Here, hiccough!"
Legolas grabbed it, yanked the hobbit to his feet, and dropped him with a yelp. At least Pippin fell backwards into a heather bush, and not back into the brambles. "You – you," Legolas spluttered.
"I?" Pippin prompted helpfully.
"YOU GAVE ME SPLINTERS!" The elf yelled, examining his right hand.
"They're not – hic – splinters, they're bramble thorns," Peregrin pointed out, "I thought that – hic – that elves knew nature, cause even I know that's a – hiccough – a bramble thorn!" He pointed at something protruding from Legolas' palm.
"Peregrin Took, do you want me to hit you!"
"N-no!" Pippin squeaked. His hiccoughs suddenly disappeared.
"Well then shut up, alright, because you're going the right way for a nasty one! It is a splinter now, because it is deeply imbedded in my hand!" Legolas began sucking on the injured area in an attempt to get the thorn out.
"Huh? One? One what?" Pippin was confused.
"Would you like me to demonstrate?"
"Err, no thanks." The hobbit could guess from the tone of the elf's voice that it was not an invite to breakfast, or second breakfast, as he had already had one breakfast. He patted Bill lovingly, and the pony flattened his ears and tried to bite the hobbit's hand, but Pippin, unperturbed kept at it until the animal calmed.
"Fine with me. Now get back on that pony and let us continue our strange quest."
"Yessir." Pippin attempted to scramble onto Bill's back, but was unsuccessful, landing on his backside in the heather bush again. "I think I need a leg-up."
Legolas helped him up, and hobbit, pony and elf walked on for a few uneventful minutes of blissful silence.
Legolas was just daring to hope that Pippin actually liked the new atmosphere, when the hobbit asked,
"Why do elves sleep with their eyes open?"
Looking at the ground in the hope of spying that elusive athelas bush, Legolas groaned and shrugged, not wanting to go into a lengthy explanation of this, and anyway, the truth was, he wasn't actually quite sure – they just did."
"Legolas! Didn't you hear me?" cried Pippin impatiently. "I said 'why do elves sleep with their eyes open?'"
"Oh, Pippin looked confused, "How come I can't?"
"Quite simply because you are not an elf."
"I have pointy ears."
"Having pointy ears does not make you an elf," Legolas informed the hobbit, "Goblins and such have the same feature, and they most certainly are not elves!"
"Oh, well I can climb trees really well too."
"So can goblins." Legolas was getting exceedingly tired of this came. Didn't Pippin ever shut up?
"I can -"
"PIPPIN, YOU ARE NOT AN ELF!" Legolas yelled, "Anyway, you are far too short!"
"Maybe I am just a vertically challenged one." Peregrin was now quite sure he was an elf, and nothing Legolas could say was going to change his mind!
"Look here, Pippin, you're too dirty, your hair is wrong, your shape is wrong – elves do not put on weight, you like to live in burrows, you have hairy feet, you enjoy a good pint," Legolas wrinkled his nose, "in short, you are proud to be a hobbit."
"Yeah, I guess," said Pippin, examining his filthy nails, "So elves don't like pints!"
"No, most certainly not!"
"Oh." To Pippin, this was completely absurd. There were another few minutes of silence.
"What is it now, Pippin?" the elf asked irritably.
"Err…" the hobbit blushed. He'd wanted to know this one for a long time, but something told him it wasn't a topic one usually discussed in public, although Pippin figured this wasn't exactly public. Still, he just couldn't seem to get it out. "Ahehe…um…"
"Well! What is? Something stuck in your throat?"
"Err, no," said Pippin huskily. He coughed, and then asked in a whisper, "Uhm…How are babies made?"
Legolas stopped short, blushing too. "I don't know!" He turned away from the hobbit so that Peregrin wouldn't see that his cheeks were a deep crimson, but unfortunately for him, hobbits had sharp eyes.
"You do know; you just aren't telling me! Please!" Pippin pulled Bill up, "Please tell me! Oh please!" he pleaded.
"Fine! Fine, I will!" Legolas sighed and blew a few blonde strands out of his face. "Err…right, well, ahem…"
"Yeah?" Pippin was listening eagerly, and Bill's ears were pricked forward too.
"Okay, let's see then," Legolas began, feeling all hot and flustered, and still blushing madly, "Well, when a man and a women, or a he-elf and a she-elf, or a…a he-dwarf and a she-dwarf -"
"Get to the point already, next you're going to say "he-orc and she-orc!"
"No, I'm not! Anyway, when theses couples love each other very much and get married -"
"Do they always get married? Sam and Rosie love each other but they aren't married."
"Err, well, no, but it's better if they are. Anyways, so they love each other lots and lots, right?"
"And then something very special happens between them, called -"
"You can stop right there!" Pippin told him, "This is to do with kissy kissy stuff, right?"
"Well, yeah, kind of." Legolas grinned. This wasn't going to be a sex education class after all, thank Valar.
"Gross, let's change the subject!"
"Yes, let's," said Legolas quickly, before Pippin could ask anything else, "Why don't we play 'Who can be the quietest for the longest?'" He suggested.
"Nah, that's dumb." Pippin shook his head.
"Rhaich," Legolas growled, thoroughly frustrated now.
"What's that mean?"
"Never you mind."
"It's a swear word, isn't it!"
"Yes – No!"
"I'll take that as a 'yes'". Pippin clapped his hands, "Wheee! I can swear in elvish now! I can swear in elvish! Rhaich!" he cried, and then began to chant, "Rhaich rhaich rhaich…"
Legolas took a deep breath. Then he leant in close to Bill, muttered, "Forgive me, mellon nin," and slapped the pony across the rump. The chestnut reared, and Pippin flung his arms around the pony's neck to stay on, emitting a high, girly scream. As Bill took off at a gallop, Legolas shouted after him,
"To Aragorn!" and then as an afterthought, he added, snickering, "Noro lim!" As soon as he uttered this, the pony's legs became a blur, and Pippin began to wail, tugging at the pony's reins, but to no avail. Soon hobbit and steed were gone, and Legolas went back to herb hunting. The elf was not worried about Pippin's safety, even though the hobbit himself evidently was. He had spent many hours bonding with the pony and getting to know him, and he trusted the animal to go straight back to Aragorn without letting Pippin fall. Legolas was pretty sure Bill would forgive him for the slap too.
"Ai!" Legolas nearly tripped over a boulder hidden amongst a large clump of…could it be? Yes it could…athelas! Legolas actually allowed himself a whoop of joy before drawing out a pocket knife and kneeing beside the plant. The elf hesitated slightly before cutting a little more than a handful of the herb and putting it carefully into his basket, as he wasn't going to admit it, but he felt sorry for the plant. After all, it was a living thing, and it had a right to be alive, just like him…well, not quite. Legolas started on the long journey back to camp, wishing he was the one on Bill.
"Legolas!" Aragorn looked up from removing the thorns from Pippin, and waved as the elf trudged into camp, "Did you get anything?" Bill and Merry were watching the Ranger, and the rest of the Fellowship were discussing lunch (and second lunch).
"Yes, I did," said Legolas, bringing the basket over.
Merry ran up to him. "Where's the mushrooms?"
"There aren't any," Legolas told him, "And it's 'where are', not 'where is.'
"Who cares about that stuff?"
"Well I don't!"
Aragorn looked into the basket and frowned at the contents.
"I know athelas is rare, but is this all you could find?"
"Err, yes." Legolas nodded. Suddenly what had looked like over a handful of the herb now looked like a mere spoonful.
Aragorn didn't seem to believe the elf. "Well," he said, "in that case, I think that next time I shall go myself!" He began to laugh, and seeing the funny side of things, so did Legolas.
A/N: Well, how did you guys like that? Just a short little ficlet – I took a break in between my long Legolas angst, Captive .:wink wink nudge nudge everybody :):. To write this nine- pager, and I've just typed it quickly this afternoon. Please, if you read, REVIEW, so that I know you've read it and that I've got readers, hannon le!
-o-Windsong of Darkness-o-