Over the telephone, Gandalf had explained the complications of a One Ring to her, and although Adhara wasn�t too pleased about the fact that the fate of the world lie in the grubby paws of four �hobbits� who were carting jewelry and trinkets across the country. And not to mention that for some reason, this new Strider had suddenly appeared, an appearance even Gandalf himself could not explain. But that was probably just because he kept on saying that the poor man in the psychology ward was quite incorrect; that he could not possibly be Strider, Aragorn or the million other names he seemed to be calling himself. Adhara had to agree. Who would have that many names, anyway?!
It has often been reckoned that in the Rings Men were a fledgling race. Adhara downed a gulp of Tim Horton�s excellent coffee quickly. No, Men were quite well established. It was Women who needed the help. And she certainly intended on giving it. But for some obvious reason, being here in England wasn�t helping anyone in Middle Earth. If only there was some way of reaching that place . . . But aside from Gandalf, she had never heard of anyone from Middle Earth! And he kept on insisting that Men had to solve their own problems and she was only getting in the way! No, he would never help her. If there was another . . .
Adhara gasped. There was. Another. Possibly. Strider. But could she possibly trust her life to a guy currently in a medication-induced trance lying in a psychology ward? She groaned. Well, if that was the sacrifice and the risk she had to take in order to have any chance of saving Middle Earth . . . so be it. With determination across her face, Adhara squished the coffee cup (with coffee still in it) and tossed the remains in the nearest paper recycling bin marked paper only, and quickly ran off in the direction of the psychology wards.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The journey into Rivendell was relatively uneventful, unless, of course, one counts the number of times Donkey and Sirius had little internal problems. At first, Legolas was quite amused by their constant bickering over the need of Tic Tacs and the number of Taco Bell Super Bean Chile dishes consumed to produce a quality 16 inch fart flame. But alas, even the hobbits grew quickly sick and tired of them, so Sirius dismounted, grabbed that silvery rope he had used to tie the hobbits together earlier, and wound the length around Donkey�s rather large mouth.
"There!" Sirius stood back to admire his handy work as the rope magically snugged itself to fit, "Now let�s see you talk!" A strange sound behind Sirius told him that another mouth had dropped open. He turned to find Legolas not acting at all like his refined self with his mouth hanging open. Sirius stared, "You need your mouth bound too?!"
"No, no, no," Legolas stammered quickly, "But where did you get . . ." He faltered, and Sirius assumed he meant the silver string, "That?!"
"Err . . ." Sirius shivered slightly for some reason, "I found it."
"But that elven rope is only obtainable through REE!!" The elf was still obviously shocked, "And only if you have purchased over $100 trillion of merchandise! That�s why I never was able to get a length! And that piece looks long too!"
"$100 trillion?" Sirius repeated doubtfully, "Who would order $100 trillion of merchandise from REE?"
"You don�t know what REE sells!" With a wistful sigh, Legolas continued as the company crossed the last stone bridge spanning over a rather large river, "If only you knew! Wait." He started digging into his pockets, and after a brief second, he ripped out a rather thick, telephone sized catalogue, "There. The second latest REE catalogue. I trust you�ll have plenty of time to read it in Rivendell." Before Sirius could respond, the catalogue was tucked away again. "Even its very pages is bound with a very powerful magic!"
"Oh." Donkey stumbled and Sirius was nearly pitched over its head, "Oh."
"So," Legolas suddenly grew serious and lowered his voice, "What do you think about the One Ring?"
"Err . . ." Sirius shrugged, "Nothing, really."
"A neutral approach." The other noted, "Fine. We won�t have to make any decisions until the Council anyhow. And what about the . . ."
"Hobbits?" Sirius suddenly remembered, and turned around. Nothing. Save for Legolas, he was utterly alone in some field. But they were right behind him! "Where are they?!"
"Oh man!" Legolas buried his fair face in his hands, "How will I even look another elf in the face again? Having four of my company snatched right from beneath my nose! And elves are supposed to have keen senses! Arg!"
"Now, now, there," Sirius soothed, and handed his elven friend the first hanky he could pull out of his crowded pockets (it was a little used). Legolas took the offering and sneezed loudly. "I�m sure we�ll find our dear little hobbit friends!"
"But why were they taken?!" Legolas sniffled, "Why?"
"Oh, I don�t know." Sirius admitted.
"It wasn�t as if one was Frodo Baggins and he carried the One Ring . . ." The elf paused for another sneeze and the blood drained out of Sirius�s face. "What? I don�t recall their names . . ."
"There was one. A Frodo." Sirius gasped, "I mean, it�s not a very common name, now is it?"
"Well, Baggins was from the Shire." Legolas supplied, "And he had friends Sam, Merry, Pippin . . ." If Sirius had paled any further, he would have looked like Dracula. Sirius paled further. Legolas stared. "You never told me you were a vampire!"
"I�m not!" Sirius goggled, "Oh crap! The One Ring! They were after the One Ring!"
"Orcs have the hobbits. The hobbits had the One Ring. Therefore, orcs have the One Ring." Legolas sighed, "We might as well go home and order our burial goods from REE then."
"How could you give up so easily???" Shocked, Sirius almost toppled from his mount. "I mean, aren�t you the brave bold elven prince Legolas of Mirkwood?!!! I mean," Sirius pointed to the other horse, "You even have the white horse!"
"Yes, yes, yes, I am brave and I�m bold and I am an elf and I am a prince and I am Legolas and I am of Mirkwood," Legolas gasped, "But you can�t expect me to fight against the One Ring!"
"This One Ring sounds fishy." Sirius sniffled, "What�s so special about it?"
"What�s so special about it???" It was the elf�s turn to nearly topple off his horse, although Legolas quickly recovered and began sniffling again, "What do you mean? The very fate of Middle Earth! All that we know! Our very livelihood! I am RUINED!"
"Not if we find them!" Sirius quickly tried a positive approach, "They were hoisted by . . . orcs?"
"Yes, of course," Legolas sniffed the air, "Can�t you smell them?!"
"Err . . ." Sirius stuttered, "Not exactly. No."
"Man!" Legolas spat the word as though it were an insult, and it probably was.
"Yes, I realize that." Sirius replied bitterly, "Now, Master Elf, since you�re so terribly clever, where have they gone?"
"I am not terribly clever!" He snapped quickly, "But even if you were a fool of a Took you would have realized that they would have headed for either Isengard or Mordor!"
"Oh. Sure. Why not. Isengard." Sirius stammered, "Of course."
"Exactly." Legolas paused, and sneezed again, "Well, even if we were to go knock on the gates of either place, we couldn�t do much. I suppose that we�d best go onto Rivendell and enlist the aid of Lord Elrond."
"Sure." Sirius nodded again, but felt sure Legolas knew what to do without him nodding.
"Man, how am I going to look him in the eye?" The elf started to moan again, and before Sirius could start his comforting routine again, Legolas muttered something in what appeared to be Elvish and his mount half rocketed off.
"HEY!" Sirius hollered, "WAIT FOR ME!"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"So, what are you trying to say, sir?" Adhara pressed so hard with her pencil, the fine 0.5 mm lead snapped and bounced onto the clean, polished floor of the hospital�s Center for Adult Psychiatry. "That you are apparently supposed to find a thing called a hobbit in some inn in some village named Bree and this all concerns some dark riders and a One Ring?"
"It seems that this person knows a lot about the affairs of Middle Earth." Gandalf the wizard concluded as he and Adhara concluded their interrogation session, "For one of this earth."
"What do you mean he�s from this earth?!" She snapped back, "He�s probably just had a really bad bump on the head or something. Or has been reading far too much Tolkien!"
"Hmm." The wizard, however, was not so easily amused, "A Man . . ."
"WHO is he really?!" Adhara demanded, "I�ve never seen him before!"
"Oh, you haven�t?" It was Gandalf�s turn to be surprised, and he lifted his bushy white eyebrows, "Oh. I thought you knew Sirius Black."
"I do know Sirius Black!" Adhara sputtered, and pointed to the man on the bed, "But this isn�t him!"
"This isn�t?!" Gandalf blinked quickly, "What do you mean, he isn�t?"
"I mean, he isn�t!" Adhara repeated, "I�d know Sirius from anywhere! Sure this grubby guy looks like him, but," She walked over to the breakfast tray which hosted an untouched mushroom omelet, "Sirius loves mushrooms!"
"Mushrooms?" He paled. "Sirius loved mushrooms? In stew?"
"Of course," Adhara sniffled, "It was his specialty. I taught him everything he knows."
"Then . . . would that mean . . ." Gandalf smacked himself on the head with his staff, "He was heading towards Hogwarts?"
"Yes," She replied, "He was going to do some castle-sitting."
"Oh Gosh." Gandalf started to pace, "I�ve made a little boo-boo."
"A little boo-boo?" Adhara knew that in the magical world, there was no such thing as a little boo-boo. They were either little mistakes or BIG boo-boos. "A boo-boo?" She repeated, "Like what?"
"This is Strider." Gandalf pointed to the man, "I met �Sirius� on the way here and I thought he was Strider and I thought he was stuck in the wrong world and . . ."
"You switched them." Adhara whispered, tears in her eyes, "You switched my sweet, darling Sirius for . . ." She paused for a moment to think of a really terrible but lady-like word, "This . . . thimble?"
"Yes, unfortunately." Gandalf groaned.
"I told you not to trust any men." Adhara mumbled to herself. "Now what are we going to do?"
"Unswitch them!" Gandalf suggested the obvious.
"Alright, then do it!" She screamed, "NOW!"
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"This really . . . SUCKS!" Legolas suddenly screamed and pelted what seemed to be a hockey puck at Sirius�s head, "My lembas is all burnt and I can�t find a descent meal and my elf-senses are failing me and � " He suddenly paused and turned to Sirius, "You don�t suppose I�m getting young do you?"
"Young?" Sirius stared at the little black cake now lying on the ground, "You mean, old."
"No, no, no, no, no!" The elf laughed, "Young."
"Oh. Sure." Sirius blinked quickly, "You look sort of young . . ." Before he could finish his sentence with to me, he found himself flat on his back, the dust of the road swelling about him in choking clouds, with an elven blade at his throat. At the other end was Legolas, his eyes flashing dangerously.
"Say that again and I�ll make you eat burnt lembas!" He swore angrily, grinding his teeth, "My own burnt lembas!"
"Oh. Sure." Sirius whispered, trying to remain calm with a very sharp elven blade at his throat, "Just don�t cut my head off!"
"Why not?" Legolas became suddenly very interested, and had a grin plastered across his face, "I�m sure elvish medicine can fix you right up! And we�re only a day away from Rivendell!"
"What does that have anything to do with my head?" Sirius snapped, "I don�t care even if we were two steps away from Rivendell!"
"No, no, no, no, no!" Legolas laughed again, "Elrond can fix . . . anything . . ." He finished with an evil twinkle in his eye, "Absolutely anything."
"Maybe then, he can make you young again!" Sirius sputtered, but quickly corrected, "Old! I mean, old! Old!" Legolas glared at him with cold eyes and Sirius swore as he felt his skin break, "Okay! Okay! Old! Very, very, very, very, very, very old!"
"That�s better." The elf sniffled and released pressure on the blade, but suddenly applied it again, "I�m not OLD! Only MEN get OLD! We elves only MATURE!"
"Okay, okay, okay," Sirius gasped, "You�re very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very mature!" At that time and place, he was quite ready to agree with anything Legolas said. "Yes! You are mature!"
"That�s better." Legolas snorted and glared in to Sirius�s eyes, "Don�t you dare call me young again!"
"Of course not!" Sirius nodded as best he could and Legolas withdrew his blade. Sirius blinked and rubbed his ribs, thinking that that elf could surely pack a good tackle. They grew silent. Very silent. Until Sirius asked Legolas to move.
"I am the prince of Mirkwood!" The elf snapped, "I can go where I please!"
"Um, yes, you can go where you please!" Sirius yelped, "But you just can�t stay here!"
"Why not?" Legolas looked ready to pull his blade again.
"GET OFF ME!" Sirius suddenly roared, without proper Man meekness, drew his wand, and Legolas jumped to his feet, "Stupid elves!"
They both stared at each other, weapons in hand, the clouds of dust settling back upon the road.
"Men?!" Legolas spat, disgusted, and turned away from Sirius, quickly mounting again, "There is no strength left in the race of Men! Men are weak!"
"Oh yeah?!" Sirius screamed, "I�d rather be weak than be some sissy who sits around brushing his hair all day!"
"Hey!" He snapped back, "To whom are you referring?"
"YOU!" Sirius growled and was quite ready to drop to all fours as a dog if Legolas seemed ready to try any funny elf business, "You, master elf!"
"If you are not my friend, then," Legolas returned coolly, "Then I must ask that you address me by my proper name."
"Oh, and I suppose little Legi isn�t proper?" Sirius batted his eyelashes innocently (and aimlessly), "Or maybe Leggo my Eggo?"
"You may refer to me as . . ." The elf seemed to pause for thought, "Legolas Greenleaf, Elven prince of Mirkwood."
"Why, are you trying to pull rank?" Sirius laughed, "Well, I�m afraid I can�t better you there!"
"I must beg to differ!" Both elf and man turned towards the new voice which had intruded on their conversation (How rude, Legolas thought). Sirius was delighted to see it was another man, and the elf clearly was not. This man however, although dressed in all the traveling finery of Gondor and spotted a rather fine horn at his side, had a rather awkwardly large shield on his back. Sirius noted that this would make a fine toboggan, come winter. Maybe with a little shield wax though.
"Legolas Greenleaf! Long time no see, but I still can�t imagine that a few years has put the idea that you can pull rank over Gondor!" Sirius stared at the man who continued, laughter contouring his firm features and noticing the intense looks he was receiving, ran a nervous hand through his light colored hair, "I don�t believe you don�t know who this is."
"Sure I know who this is." Legolas shot a dirty look at Sirius, "Some stupid man. An ex-con from someplace called Azkaban. Wherever that is." The elf sniffled, "Didn�t you say your name was . . . Sirius? Seriously, what kind of name is that?"
"What kind of name is Legolas?" Sirius snapped back, and before they could tackle each other again, the third member of their party stood in between them. Sirius stared, "And who do you think you are?"
"I?" He laughed again, to Sirius�s annoyance, "I serve you, and . . ." He turned to Legolas and gave him a dirty look, mimicking in a high-pitched voice, "He is Aragorn, son of Arathorn, heir to the throne of Gondor! You �owe� him your allegiance!"
"I am who?" Sirius gasped, "Who is Aragorn?"
"You are." Both man and elf replied, and Legolas rolled his eyes, "Not to mention that you have like fifty other names . . . �Estel� . . . . �Strider� . . . �Heir of Isildur� . . . "
"I�m Sirius!" Sirius (of course) protested meekly, "I�m really Sirius!"
"Of course you are serious," The man replied, "Well, even though you are Aragorn, you can at least bend down from your high post and greet me like an old friend, eh?"
"My high post?" Sirius stumbled again, "I�m not who you think I am!"
"Of course you are!" Legolas snapped, eyes flashing, "And if I hadn�t suspected from the start, I would have shot you! Right between the eyes!"
"Oh. That sounds so encouraging," Sirius rolled his eyes and turned to the other man, "Could you please introduce yourself?"
"Introduce?" The man looked confused. "At the last Council, I was a little surprised at your presence, but we are old friends, are we not?" Sirius looked ready to protest. "Even though, I suppose it has been a few years and with all those orcs tossing you around, I suppose even some of your brain cells would have been killed." He took a deep breath, "I am . . ."
"The carrier of the dinner plate shield." Legolas quipped.
"My shield is rather large," The man stared daggers at the elf, "But at least I do not spend all of Gondor�s money on skin and hair care products!"
"Hey! It�s not my fault that Mirkwood went totally bankrupt and we couldn�t afford to finance our army when the orcs attacked!" Legolas whimpered, twirling a strand of hair around nervous fingers, "My hair is very important to me!"
"I would imagine so." Sirius rolled his eyes and turned to the other man, "You were saying?"
"Before this ugly old bat interrupted me . . ." He seethed and Legolas looked ready to pull another elven blade on someone, "I am the heir of Denenthur, High Stewart of Gondor."
"And he has a little brother who actually takes care of his hair." Legolas flipped the strand of hair he was playing with away from his face, "You see, Faramir and I got along much better at those annual Christmas parties! And every year, he actually gave me something nice, instead of . . ." Legolas shuttered and closed his eyes, "Shield wax!"
"HEY!" The heir of Denenthur roared, "That was expensive shield wax!" He turned to Sirius and tapped his shield, "I use only the very best for my shield! Orc Wax!"
"Orc Wax?" Sirius whispered, "Like Turtle Wax?"
"Sort of." The other nodded, "But it�s made from Orc hair grease and is quite . . . well . . . I suppose, well textured."
"And I thought it was bow wax," Legolas was still white and looked ready to faint, "And when I slathered it on my bow . . ."
"You don�t slather on wax!" The man screamed back, "You apply a light coating, wait for five minutes until it becomes opaque and then you buff it with a soft cloth!" His eyes narrowed. "Don�t you read the instructions?"
"You still haven�t told me your name, heir of Denenthur," Sirius interrupted the two before an other argument could spur, "From Gondor?"
"Of course, I�m from Gondor. And it�s actually a descent place to live. Unlike some little leaky mud hovel in some dark forest . . ." He eyed Legolas angrily, but soon lost the expression as he turned to Sirius, "I�m Boromir."
"Borrow-my-er?" Sirius struggled, "That�s a nice name."
"And Legolas isn�t?" The elf sniffled, "I thought that Aragorn, son of Arathorn, heir of Isildur was a better judge of names!"
"Well, how do you pronounce it?" Sirius asked, "I mean, you can say it a million different ways."
"I say my own name correctly." Legolas replied primly, "Correctly."
"Well, I suppose I�d best learn how to say my name." Sirius sniffled, "So I�m . . . who?"
"You are . . ." Legolas adopted his squeaky voice again, "Aragorn, son of Arathorn, heir of Isildur, rightful heir to the throne of Gondor, foster son of Elrond, fianc� of Arwen, Ranger of the North, Strider, Wingfoot . . ."
"SLOW DOWN!" Sirius roared, "That�s a lot of names!"
"We know!" Boromir and Legolas chorused, and Legolas continued, "Elvenstar, �Estel,� King Esslar,"
"Oh shut up for pity�s sake!" Boromir rubbed his ears, "This is folly!"
"What is folly?" Legolas repeated, shocked, "My squeaky voice?"
"Yes, your squeaky voice is folly!" Boromir screamed, angrily, "Why do you use it anyway?"
"Mummy said that it made me sound cute!" Legolas positively beamed and batted his long eyelashes (and was quite glad he had used his eyelash curler that morning), "And Daddy said so too!"
"That�s the only reason why they don�t want you." Boromir groaned, "Wait. There�s plenty of reasons why they don�t want you."
"I just don�t understand!" Legolas screamed, going back to his normal voice, "I mean, why do the people of Mirkwood hate me? It�s not as if I�m bratty or spoiled or anything or . . ."
"Maybe because you steal all their money for your hair care products." Sirius suggested gently.
"Well, they have to have a prince who is going to look half-descent on all those glossy magazine covers," Legolas grinned widely, "See? My teeth? I had braces!"
"Oh for pity�s sake!" Boromir used one of his favorite sayings, "Spare us the details!"
"And the orthodontist was so glad that I flossed regularly and . . ." Legolas paused, "And did you believe that I used to have pink and purple elastics on my brackets?"
"Oh enlighten us," Sirius rolled his eyes, and turned to the East, "Well, we�d best keep on going, Elrond can�t be kept waiting. And the sooner we get to Rivendell, the sooner we can rescue those darn hobbits and the sooner I can get out of here . . ."
"And the sooner I can get married!" Boromir suddenly screamed, excited, and jumped onto his horse (which elf and Sirius had just noticed), "Yay! Getting married!"
"So? What�s so fun about getting married?" Legolas snapped, "Stretchy purple dresses?"
"What about stretchy purple dresses?" Boromir snapped back, "At least I�m not a drag queen, Legolas!"
"I do not wear . . ." The elf groaned and tears fell down his face, but before he could start bawling, Sirius kicked his horse into action and the three rode forward on the grand horizon, Rivendell in front of them, and smoldering Mirkwood behind them.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"So, does it look good?" Legolas asked the company a few moments later, and held up a brush, "Doesn�t it look so good?"
"What?" Boromir asked, "Looks so good? The road? The sunset?"
"No, no, no, no, no!" The elf laughed, "My hair!"
"Your hair?" Sirius choked, "Now that is folly!" Boromir gave him a dirty look for using the expression.
"Oh, my hair looks sooooo perfect!" Legolas cooed and pulled out a mirror larger than his REE catalogue, "OH NO!" He suddenly screamed, and Sirius drew wand, Boromir, his sword. Legolas positively was scared stiff, tears falling out of his eyes and screaming, "No! It can not be! NOOOOO!"
Both men stared into the falling darkness, fear speeding their hearts, "What is it?" Sirius asked softly, "What is it that could be so horrible?" The elf did not scare easily. It must be something awful. Awful.
"Balrog?" Boromir panicked, recalling the Mines of Moria, "Orcs?"
"No!" The hystrical elf screamed "NO!"
"What is going on?" Sirius grabbed a pair of binoculars and looked around, "I don�t see anything."
"You�re looking the wrong way!" Legolas screamed, again, and again, "Look over here!" Sirius looked where he was pointing. Legolas�s fine and elegant finger trembled as he pointed to his shoulder.
"What�s going on?" Boromir gasped, "Are you hit? An arrow?"
"No! Worse!" Legolas gasped, painfully, "No!"
"A Morgul dart?" Boromir hardly dared to breathe, "Nazgul? Here?"
"No!" The elf moaned, painfully, his finger shook furiously, and he started to gasp, "I can�t breathe! I�m dying!"
"No!" Sirius hollered, and although he didn�t like the elf, Legolas was his companion. Both he and Boromir halted their steeds and as Sirius gathered up the horses, Boromir gently picked Legolas (who was very light, even for an elf, must be the diet pills) out of his saddle and lay him on a gentle patch of moss by the road, "Legolas! Are you alright?!"
By this time, the elf could only answer in painful gasps of breath, his eyes were hazed over and one look at Boromir�s face told Sirius to expect the worse. The elf was dying. Quickly. Legolas clutched at his shoulder with an iron grip, but luckily, Boromir had a membership with the Big Strong Tough Workout Guys of Gondor gym, so he was quite strong, and pried the elf�s fingers away. Sirius held aloft a torch, his heart beating quickly. Legolas couldn�t die, could he? He was an elf! A very pretty elf at that!
"Oh Legolas!" Sirius sighed, and felt extremely helpless, "Oh no! This can�t be happening!"
The elf�s harsh gasps of a few seconds ago had become more painful and few. Boromir searched for a wound, but could find nothing. Nothing at all. Boromir blinked tears out of his eyes. Such a beautiful elf! Such a waste!
Suddenly, Legolas�s eyes flashed open, perhaps for the final time. Although he could not speak, his hand returned to gripping his shoulder, and the other trembled, open. He wants his bow, Sirius thought, but as he bent down to place the weapon in the elf�s hand, Boromir shook his head and replaced the bow with the golden brush. With a small contented sigh, Legolas�s eyes finally fluttered shut.
"A brush?" Sirius sputtered, "A brush?!"
"He was a very vain elf." Boromir sighed, and paid what seemed to be final respects, "But a good elf, never-the-less." He paused, "I wonder what the cause was."
Having a little training in medicine, Sirius pealed open the elf�s eyelids gently, and peered into the unseeing eyes, "Heart attack. Cardiac arrest. Myocardial infarction."
"Hmm. A great shock." Boromir whispered, "He suffered greatly. But what was it?"
"We shall never know." Sirius shook his head and hoisted the other to his feet, "Come, we must go to Rivendell. The elf�s magic will take care of this . . . corpse."
"It is a very beautiful corpse." Boromir sighed wistfully and Sirius handed him the reins of his horse, and they both turned away. "Still . . . I wonder what was so shocking . . ."
"A split end and a tangle." A very silvery voice whispered behind them, and they both turned in shock, mouth agape, to see Legolas, alive and well, just lying on the ground pretending to be a corpse with his gold brush in hand, "You see, it wouldn�t have been that horrible if it was just a split end. Or just a tangle. But . . ." He shuttered, "It was a tangle, and amongst it . . . heaven forbid . . . split ends!"
"Split ends?" Boromir screamed, "Oh for pity�s sakes Legolas! You had us worried sick! But split ends and tangles! Oh that is all folly!" Happily, the trio shared a large group hug and mounted their horses again, riding away. Finally, Boromir turned to Legolas, "So, what made you wake up again?"
"You know the gentle breeze?" The elf asked, and the others nodded, "You see, it blew gently at my hair, until finally, the knot undid itself and the gentle dew fixed my split ends. I could awaken, for my hair was perfect."
"Oh." Both men chorused, "Oh."
"That is folly," Boromir rolled his eyes and whispered to Sirius softly, "For pity�s sake I don�t see how we�re going to put up with him . . ."
A giant roll of thunder split the heavens and of course, as the rain began to fall, a very clear elven voice cut through the darkness, "Oh no! Not rain! Just when my hair is perfect!"