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Temporary Insanity  by Joee

 Temporary Insanity

Rated: G

Disclaimer: None of the characters are mine, I just thought I would have some fun with them.

Summary: While trapped in a wine cellar with Aragorn, Legolas notices some annoying details about his friend. Originally written for the January/February Teitho challenge at the Mellon Chronicles website. The theme was Friends in Small Spaces.

Author’s note: Everything in Italics are Legolas’ thoughts.

OoOoOoOo

“It could be worse, you know,” remarked Aragorn as he and I sat beside each other, waiting for help to arrive.

“How?” I snapped back. “How could it possibly be worse? We are trapped in a dark, stuffy, wine cellar with no way out until someone realizes we’re in here. So I ask you again, how could it be worse?”

“Well, at least it’s not completely dark,” he said while motioning to the small strip of light coming from under the door. “And, for the first time in as long as I can remember, both of us are uninjured.”

I glared as he continued. “No one could have predicted that the cellar door would slam shut behind us and become jammed. They’ll find us sooner or later.”

“Oh yes,” I remarked bitterly, “the minuscule thread of light peeking in from under the cursed door almost makes me believe that were not stuck in a small dark hole with walls that appear to be closing in on us.”

“Just breathe Legolas…”

“I am breathing, human; it’s how I manage to stay alive!”

Aragorn ignored my comment and continued. “The walls are not moving, and you know this. It’s just your claustrophobia acting up. Someone will eventually notice that we are no longer at the feast and when they can’t locate us, they will send out a search party. Remember the time a few years ago when I disappeared with that maiden and within an hour a group of elves came bursting into the clearing we were in, claiming that they had been sent to locate me.

I smiled. What I hadn’t told him about that night was that it was I who had tipped the search party off to where he was, knowing all along what he was doing. The threats that Estel had received from the maiden’s father when they had been found had made betraying him all worth it.

We fell silent and time slowly went on until…

Whistle in, wheeze out. Whistle in, wheeze out. Whistle in, wheeze out.

How is it possible? I don’t think any creature on Arda makes that much noise when they breathe. Even a panting warg seems quieter than him! Does he not realize how much noise he is making? I thought he prided himself on his ability to be quiet, but that can’t possibly be true, anyone could hear him coming from miles off!

How is he making that noise? Does he have something up there? I remember him sticking things up his nose as a child but I though he grew out of that habit. It’s hard to imagine a grown man shoving small objects up his nasal passages, but what other explanation could there be? Do women find this attractive?

Ai! Listen to me! I’m slowly going crazy. I need to stop thinking about these things and concentrate on finding a way out of here.

“Help!” I cried. “We’re trapped in here. Can anyone hear me? Get us out!”

“It’s no use, Legolas. We’ve tried for over an hour. Everyone’s up at the feast. I wouldn’t be surprised if no one finds us until tomorrow,” replied Aragorn in a calm tone.

I fell silent again. I knew he was right; no one would come down here until they go to put the leftover wine away. The truth was that there had been plenty of wine at the feast, and we had only used coming down here as an excuse to get away from one of Erestor’s boring stories. I guess this was some sort of justice.

A short while passed until my previous thought came back to me with the resumption of the whistle, wheeze.

I wonder what could possibly be up there? A small piece of wood perhaps? Maybe some cork from a wine bottle? Food? Would it impolite to ask such a question?

“What is it!” I almost shouted as my curiosity and annoyance got the better of me.

“Excuse me?” replied the confused ranger.

Idiot! Why would you ask something as ridiculous as that? What is wrong with you? You must be losing your mind. There’s no other possible explanation.

“The bottle behind you, what is it,” I quickly lie. “Where is it from, what year?”

I watch as he pulls the dusty bottle from the shelf and holds it beside the small crack of light so he can read it. “It’s from a small town on the Gondorian border. 2951. Not too old yet.”

I look at him for a moment. Whistle, wheeze. Whistle, wheeze.

“It’s fine,” I say, taking the bottle from him and taking a long drink.

A couple more hours passed, although it was hard to tell exactly how much time. Aragorn attempted to start up a conversation to make the time go by easier, but I was in no mood to join him, so eventually everything fell silent again. Until it started…

Tap, tap, tap. Tap, tap, tap.

Is he trying to drive me insane? Does that noise not thunder inside his head as it does mine? And what is with that finger? It is covered in dirt and grime! He just bathed before the feast started; how could it possibly become so dirty so fast? Look at all the dirt and grime under that fingernail. No wonder the human becomes sick; look at all the germs breeding under there. It’s like a little bacteria colony!

Tap, tap, tap. Tap, tap, tap.

That’s right, just add more; that will help with your appearance, and smell! Oh yes, let’s talk about the smell now. It was bearable at first, but now that we’re trapped in this small, fairly warm room, the stench is growing stronger. I wonder if he’s trying to make me pass out? It’s probably part of his plan to slowly torture me to death.

Tap, tap, tap. Sniff. Tap, tap, tap.

Oh, mixing it up a little there, are we? As if the tapping noise wasn’t bad enough, now I must listen to him making disgusting sniffling/snorting noises as well. Looks like the bacteria colony has begun its job of infecting him, or maybe the object in his noise has come loose and he’s trying to put it back into place in a more dignified manner than by shoving his finger up there.

Tap, tap, tap. Tap, tap, tap.

I can’t take it anymore!

“Can you please stop that!”

Aragorn looked startled at my sudden outburst and the tone in my voice. “Is something wrong, Legolas?”

Why is he doing this to me! I never noticed until now how much he draws out his s’s. Isss sssomething wrong, Legolasss?

“Your eyes appear to be twitching,” he continued.

Eye! Eye! Singular, not plural! There was no need to add the extra ‘s’! And yes, it’s twitching because of you! Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap! It’s enough to drive one of the Valar insane. How am I, a lowly elf, supposed to resist the urge forming inside me to hurt the human?

“I am fine,” I replied coolly.

“Are you sure?” he persisted. “You seem a little tense.”

Are you sssure? You ssseem a little tenssse.

“I am fine,” I replied firmly.

“All right, if you insist.”

Silence.

Sweet blessed silence!

I wonder how long we’ve been down here now. Surely someone will find us soon. I should imagine that they’ve already formed search and rescue parties by now. Lord Elrond never had any faith that we could be alone for more than an hour without getting ourselves…wait! What is that? What is he doing now? Is he…? He is! He’s snoring! Why, why, why?

I’m surprised the structure of this room is still intact. I would think that the loud vibrations he’s emitting would be enough to bring this entire house down. Well, at least now I can be sure they will find us soon. Surely the loud roar coming from him can be heard all the way back in Mirkwood. The poor elves outside must think that they’re under attack from a horde of trolls. Do trolls travel in hordes? Or is it more of a pack? Or maybe a…wait, I’m getting off topic here.

Topic? Look at your topic! A snoring, smelly, human who is passed out beside you. Some topic.

Well, at least all of this noise seems to drown out all the other little annoying habits. How could I have not noises all of these things before.

Snore, snore, snore, snore, whistle.

It’s back! How can it be back? We are past the whistling stage, we can’t go back now! How can someone possibly snore and whistle at the same time? It’s not fair! What have I done to deserve being stuck in here like this! This needs to stop.

Well, I guess it’s up to me. I would be doing Middle Earth a favour by disposing of him. He cannot be allowed to continue this insanity. He won’t stop until every man, woman, and child as been driven insane by his bodily noises. It’s up to me now. I must stop the madness!

I launch myself at Aragorn and quickly wrap my hands around his neck.

“Wha…Legolas!” he manages to gasp out as he is jolted awake. “What are you doing? Stop!”

Ssstop!

“Nay! You are a menace upon society and you must be stopped. You…”

I am temporarily blinded as a bright light fills the room and my grip loosens. Aragorn wastes no time in scrambling away from me.

“There you two are,” says Lord Elrond as he stands in the doorway of the now open cellar. “The door was jammed, but after several good tugs it gave way…is everything all right?”

Both Elrond and Aragorn looked at me, questioning. I was about to tell Lord Elrond everything thing about my mission when I realize that I can no longer hear or smell Aragorn. With the opening of the door and the resumption of noises and fresh air, I can no longer detect any of the small details that have driven me crazy over the last few hours. He is back to being the same old Aragorn.

“Yes,” I say as I step out into the hallway. “Everything is fine now.”

It was nearly dawn so we decided to get a few hours sleep before going on with our normal day. As soon as we parted company with Lord Elrond, Aragorn turned to me.

“What in Arda was that all about!”

“I am sorry mellon nin. Temporary insanity. But you must admit, you did provoke it.”

“I what?”

“Good night mellon nin,” I say as I walk to my bedroom and shut the door, leaving a confused looking Aragorn in the hall, trying to figure out what he’d done. Maybe one day I’ll even tell him…or better yet, if I ever have to take revenge out on Elladan and Elrohir, I know the perfect punishment. They will beg me for death before the end.

The End.





        

        

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