Aragorn strode briskly through the halls of his palace in the White City of Gondor, Gimli
hurrying along close behind him.

It was night. Rather, it was very early morning, and very dark out as the Moon had just set.
Dawn was not for a few hours yet.

With them also strode Gandalf, newly-returned from one of his journeys across Middle-Earth.

King and dwarf quickly led the wizard to the chamber that had been given to Legolas. They dared
not wait until the dawn; the Elf could be snatched away at any time and they wanted him under
Gandalf's protection as soon as possible to prevent another such occurrence.

"Tell me again exactly what happens," Gandalf said as they neared the wing of the palace that
contained the Elf's chamber. "You say there is little warning?"

"It is true," Aragorn said. "And if you are not closely watching him, there would not even be
that. He is more sensitive to it by now, but even *he* has barely seconds' notice. He goes pale,
his eyes grow large and dark with fear, then he is just- gone. He will be missing for hours,
days, he was once gone for a day or two over a week. Then whatever it is will return him to us,
usually disheveled, hair and clothing in disarray, *frightened*." He paused, remembering, then
continued. "The first time he popped back, he appeared in the air eight feet above the floor in
the women's bathing chamber. I do not know who was more afraid, them or him."

"Him," Gimli said. "He threw up from terror shortly after fleeing the room."

"And aside from these vanishing spells, is he affected in any other ways?" the wizard asked.

Aragorn hesitated, then nodded. "He often reappears dressed in strange clothing that he will not
let the maids dispose of. He seems dissatisfied as well with things that used to amuse him,
complaining endlessly over the lack of cable, which is strange to me. He never before showed
this interest in rope-craft. He has also taken to visiting the kitchen and making himself a
terrible-looking monstrosity he calls 'pizza' and 'cheeseburgers' and 'Caesar salad,' which is a
foul-smelling thing that stinks up the whole palace for *hours*."

Aragorn stopped just outside the door to Legolas' chamber. He looked pleadingly to the wizard.
"Please, Gandalf. You must help him. Every time he vanishes, his condition just gets worse. He
is exhausted."

"I shall do what I can," Gandalf said simply. "There will be no more disappearing."

Quietly, the three entered the Elf's chamber, went over to the bed where their friend lay asleep.

Legolas lay there, eyes unnaturally closed and body limp in exhaustion. He hadn't awakened at
their coming as he would have were he well-rested and alert. Never, not even during the Quest of
the Ring, had the others seen him sunk this far into exhaustion. That thought worried them, even
as it firmed their resolve to help him somehow.

Gandalf studied the sleeping Elf for a long moment before turning to Aragorn. "Why is he
sleeping both clothed and armed? The War of the Ring is over. He is safe here."

"Legolas does not sleep otherwise anymore, ever since the night he vanished from his bed wearing
only his nightie," Aragorn said, looking to Gimli for confirmation. At the dwarf's gruff 'aye,'
he continued. "He shook for *days* after that, jumped at every little noise, every shadow. He
could barely speak, he was so traumatized. He still has nightmares about it."

"What happened to him?" the wizard asked.

"I do not know; he will not say. He goes pale whenever you ask, starts to shake," came the King's
reply.

"He mumbles strange things during his disturbed sleep," Gimli added helpfully.

"Strange things? What?"

"Things like, 'please stop,' and 'no more feathers!' and 'you want me to *what*?' and 'put the
rope away; I'll be good.'" The dwarf spat. "They- whoever *they* are- are obviously torturing
him."

The three looked again to the Elf, who frowned in his sleep, started muttering, thrashing
slightly against the sheets that lightly covered him. "No... please... don't touch me...." He
moaned. Long moments later, the mumbles continued. "Change it back... I don't want... watch
Britney Spears... no! Please! Mercy!"

Gandalf frowned. He looked to Aragorn. "What are these... Britney Spears?" he asked.

"Some horrific instrument of torture, no doubt," came the reply.

"Get... hands out... my hair...."

"Help him, Gandalf," Aragorn pleaded, echoed quickly by Gimli.

Gandalf nodded, focused. His staff started to glow softly. The glow spread to Legolas, who
tensed noticeably at the magic's touch, eyes coming open. the wizard finished the spell and the
glow faded.

Legolas, still mostly asleep, eyes still mostly closed and unfocused, sat up in bed. "Hi. My
name is Legolas," he drowsily told Aragorn, the first person he saw. "I absolutely love you and
would like to stay here with you forever, but my fate decrees otherwise and I am needed at home."
He grabbed Aragorn by the shoulders, pulled him down to him for a firey kiss that left both
breathless. "I shall remember this kiss always," he said. "Please send me home now." Then he
collapsed back to the bed, deep in exhausted slumber once more.

The three conscious ones stared at each other in shock, unable to comprehend what just happened.

"Gandalf?" Aragorn asked at last, still dazed from the kiss, one of the most passionate he had
ever received. And the Elf had been half-asleep! "What...?"

"Asleep, he must have felt the touch of magic. As the only magic he has seen of late has been
that which takes him away from here, he must have reacted, even half asleep, to try to persuade
whoever to send him back to us."

"Do you know now what had been taking him from us?" Gimli asked.

The wizard nodded gravely. "A terrible, horrifying, monstrous creature... or *creatures*, I
should say. Teenage fangirls from Earth."

King and dwarf were deeply shaken at the mention; teenage fangirls from Earth were mentioned in
Middle-Earth in only the most horrifying of tales, and then only in hushed whispers, for fear of
attracting their attention to themselves. They looked to their Elven friend in shocked pity.
He'd been repeatedly taken by fangirls. It was amazing that he still had his sanity mostly
intact.

"Will he recover, do you think?" Aragorn asked at last.

"He is an Elf, and resilient even for his kind. It may take some time, but he *will* get better."

They turned and left their now-protected friend alone to rest and recover. The last thing they
heard as they closed the door softly behind them was a mumbled, 'you want... put whipped cream...
*where*?'

END