Posted: November 2004
Title: Safeword
Author: Haleth Haladin
Type: FCS
Characters: various Hobbits, Legolas/Gimli
Rating: PG-13
Warning: Much silliness. No explicit sex.
Disclaimer: This is not what Tolkien wrote or intended, and I'm sure Peter Jackson would be appalled as well.
Inspired by: The Man in the Attic, who also gave it a quick beta.
Summary: Sometimes the *real* story is different from the one you read in the book or see in the movie.

*****

"Gandalf the Grey sat muttering curses and spells in all the tongues of Men and Elves and Orcs. With a few scabrous insults thrown in for good measure. Aragorn son of Arathorn sat near him, grim of face and weary of body. Boromir son of Denethor glowered off to one side. Gimli, for the first time in a long while, was quiet.

The failed crossing of the mountain had taken its toll on everyone. Everyone but me, naturally. It was no hardship for me to waft across the snow and scout ahead. Nor was it any difficulty for me to descent the mountain. Humans. Wizards. Hobbits. Dwarves - they are not built for travel or inclement weather, the way Elves are.

Stalwart Sam comforted his poor, exhausted Frodo. Such love. I would not have thought it possible of Hobbits. I had never met any before the council in Rivendell. I thought them rather childlike at first, but they soon proved themselves quite mature. For their ages.

But where were the other two?

I left the befuddled Wizard to seek out the missing Hobbits. I knew Gandalf was happier with the littlest one missing, but I felt an obligation to keep them safe. Gandalf continued to ignore me.

Aragorn watched me with one eye as I moved off. He was exhausted, poor man. Boromir glowered at me, arms crossed over his chest. He would have looked a good deal less sour if he had been more careful and not slipped into the water, clumsy oaf. In this weather, even the heartiest warrior would be unhappy with one soaked boot. Gimli followed Gandalf's lead and ignored me as well.

I was not at all happy about being ignored and scowled at by so many member of the Fellowship. Especially Gimli. I had been trying for days to be as nice as possible to him, but it was having no effect at all.

I heard a faint scrabbling noise and approached a large boulder. Peering over the top, I spied two Hobbits. Two Hobbits in a most interesting position. Or rather, two complex and quite fascinating positions. Obviously, Hobbits were even more developed than I had assumed. I was surprised by the flexibility of their legs. And the volume of hair on their pudgy little rumps.

I would not have expected Hobbits to be quite so hirsute. But then, look at their feet. I stole a glance at Gimli. He would likely be even more hairy under all those layers of clothes and armour. That might be interesting.

‘Oh, Merry, stop! Too hard! I can't take it!' Pippin was whispering.

‘You love it, Took,' Merry growled back at him.

I made sure I was in the shadows so they would not detect my presence. I do not believe the shadows were necessary for concealment, however; they were completely oblivious to the world, they were so intent on each other.

‘Gah! No, Merry… um… squash!'

Merry's pace quickened.

‘Cucumber! Zucchini! Pumpkin!'

This was odd. Perhaps not so odd, knowing the Hobbits' predilections for foodstuffs. Merry was altering the strength and speed of is strokes in response to Pippin's frantic cries. I wondered if Pippin was using some sort of Hobbit sexual code. I had heard rumours that Rivendell Elves varied the pitch of their singing during sex to discreetly guide their lovers' movements. This must have been the Hobbit version of that practice.

‘It's too big! Mushrooms!!'

Ah, it was a code. Some sort of perverted play on words. Perhaps there was not much room inside.

Gandalf made a loud noise of displeasure, as if the Hobbits' growing volume disturbed his thoughts. Gimli got up and crept beside me. He gasped when he saw Merry. And Pippin. And what Merry was doing to Pippin.

‘No, really, Merry. It's too much! Ouch!'

‘Is not. I've fit it in before. Just move a little bit forward.'

‘Ah! No, Merry. I'm not playing. Stop!'

‘You're such a child! And you've forgotten the safe word. Again. I'm going to keep going until you remember, just to teach you to be more responsible.'

‘Mango! Marmalade! Moo… mah… muss… mustard…'

Merry moved in a particularly abrupt way, threatening to topple Pippin and dislodge himself from inside Pippin.

Pippin yelped, and then shrieked ‘Melon!!!'

And the doors of Moria swung open with a great rumble…"

Gimli harrumphed. "Well, that's the truth, all right, but you can't very well write that down in the history books can you?"

Legolas looked up from the parchment on which he had neatly written the story in a lovely purple ink. "It is the truth."

"Yes, but you don't write those sorts of things down for posterity, lad."

"Are you saying that history books lie?' Legolas looked stunned.

"Well, maybe not lie. Embellish. You have to make it sound a little more noble." Elves were so naïve sometimes. "It has to be plausible, but not so raw. You know, leave out the parts that might be embarrassing," Gimli explained, with a long suck on his pipe.

Legolas stared down at the page. "You mean the part where I speculate about the hirsute-ness of your rump?"

Gimli choked on his own smoke. "I… um…"

Legolas gave him a sly smile. "I was right about that."

Gimli coughed politely.

"Although I did not think it would be so soft."

"Yes, well. How could you have known? Anyway, what I meant was, you should leave out all reference to the sex."

"But then how would the door have opened?"

"Um… well you could say Gandalf solved the riddle. Or what about saying Frodo solved it? That would be nice. That would give him a bigger part to play in that part of the story. And it's believable. He is a scholarly sort, he might have been able to solve the riddle."

"If only he could take his hands off Sam long enough…"

"True, true… well, let's sleep on it and decide in the morning. It's getting late, and I don't want you straining your lovely blue eyes working by candlelight."

"Elves are not bothered by candlelight, Gimli," Legolas smirked as he dipped his quill into the inkwell again. His brow furrowed delightfully, and his hand froze mid-dip. He looked up at the Dwarf. "Oh, that was… a suggestion."

Gimli leered at him over the table.

"You were complimenting my eyes and suggesting we retire, but not for the purpose of sleeping."

Gimli rolled his eyes. Elves could be so slow on the uptake sometimes.

Legolas rolled up the parchment. "Very well. I accept your offer."

And the two left the library in the depths of Minas Tirith to make their way up through the city to their well-appointed chambers.

The next morning, an old man, the chief archivist, entered the chamber. He frowned at the quill, left carelessly on the table with the ink dried on the nib, and the open ink pot, the contents already evaporating. He unrolled the parchment and read the words.

"Stindor!" he bellowed.

A harried young man appeared in the doorway. "Yes, my lord?"

"Tidy this room, and burn this parchment."

Stindor gulped. Parchment was precious and he saved every scrap he could, even if it was only to use the back to make notes.

"It appears young Prince Eldarion has been playing another practical joke. This time he is pretending to be Prince Legolas and casting aspersions on the characters of the Nine Walkers. Burn it at once. I will have to have a word with his father."

Eldarion never knew why his father was in such a jovial mood at dinner that night. Or why Aragorn, with an uncharacteristically wide grin on his face, told him it would be best to avoid the library for a while. But he suspected that Uncle Legolas and Uncle Gimli had something to do with it, as they were snickering throughout the meal.

*****

THE END

If you enjoyed this story, please send feedback to: Haleth