Mischief

Mischief: Chapter 2

It was nighttime.

Everybody was settling down around the fire; the four hobbits, Gandalf, Legolas, Boromir (Though he looked like he didn't want to), even Aragorn, who had the help of Legolas, and finally, Gimli.

It was almost time for his plan to be carried out, and all he had to do now was make sure that Legolas didn't get assigned the night watch. Though he couldn't understand the point of even having one, as elves didn't even need to sleep, and when they did, Gimli had always found it minorly disturbing. At least with Legolas.

But then Gandalf had said it wouldn't be fair, and that they all had to carry their own weight, and now he was glad for the wizard's refusal, or else pranking the prince would be nearly as hard as getting Gimli and Legolas to stop bickering. (Gimli did most of the bickering while Legolas usually stayed silent, making one or two comebacks once in awhile.)

They took turns making meals, and this time it had rotated to the elf, who made absolutely nothing with meat in it. Ever.

Scowling, Gimli looked down at the wooden bowl that was handed to him, full of greens and berries. Though he would never admit it, it was actually quite good but he would still love to see some meat once in awhile.

Darn elves and their soft hearts! No wonder why they were so skinny with their high cheek bones, all they ever eat is bloody elk food! Gimli grumbled to himself.

After their meals were finished, it was time to go to sleep. Just as Gandalf began announcing the night watch, Gimli jumped in almost too enthusiastically, earning a few looks. It was well known that Gimli hated it almost as much as he hated sharing a horse with Legolas. It wasn't fair, Legolas always got to sit in the front! He could never see anything over the taller man's shoulder and he hated having to grab onto the other's waist when the horse was galloping, or else he would bounce off like a beach ball.

"Hey Gandalf. I'll be taking it tonight." He said quickly, trying not to frown, for he hated it. It was so boring, all you ever did is walk around in circles all night and stare at the trees. Maybe other people liked the peace, but he definitely hated him. Nothing better than cutting off the heads of orcs!

Gandalf looked at him suspiciously. "Alright if you insist Gimli but I always thought you hated it."

"Usually but I'm not tired today and I need to stretch my legs. It's getting too cramped in here."

No more questions were asked.

Rolling out their bags, everyone started to climb in and Gimli soon splashed a bucket of water over the fire, the entire time keeping an eye on the Prince of Mirkwood.

Soon, the sound of their breathing leveled out and there was soon a rumbling snore, presumingly from Boromir or Aragorn, as he could never imagine anything as small as hobbits making such a monstrous racket, so loud that he thought every living soul in the forest would hear, and yet they complained about his snoring?

"Hypocrites," Gimli grouched under his beard.

After a few more rounds about the perimeter, the guard circled his way back to camp, squinting his eyes for a familiar bedroll. Though they had chosen a clearing, the moon was obscured under a blanket of fluffy, dark gray storm clouds and he cursed as he almost tripped over a half-buried boulder. Picking up the sack he had hidden in a hollow tree trunk, he made for camp. Unlike elves, dwarves did not have their keen eyesight or grace. Tumbling into the sleeping area, his booted foot landed on something squishy and he almost dropped his battle axe. A groan was heard in the dark and there was the sound of someone shifting in their sleep. He held his breath nervously until the noises died down once again.

Muttering under his helmet he drew the bag closer to himself, careful not to drop it. Gimli strained his eyes and searched for a long body, taller than the hobbits and the same height as Aragorn. He shuffled past a couple of bags and suddenly he saw him. A little reflective blue from the full moon peeking out through the clouds, then disappearing just as fast, only giving him a glimpse of color. The rest of the figure was hidden in the shadows, but Gimli had enough of a look to realize that that sleeping form had clear, blue eyes, and that was all he needed to know.

With a grin curling his lips, he rapidly dodge around the other forms, heightened by a slight twinge of excitement at the prospect of a little mischief. He'd been far too good for his taste the latter days. It was time for somebody to get a little bit dirty. Gimli stooped down, feeling around the area where he had seen the eyes until his glove hit something that felt like hair, though coarser and with a few more tangles than he had expected when he rubbed his fingers together. He had always thought that the honey-colored hair would feel just as it looked, but it wasn't like Legolas had shampoo or anything out here, and he had never even seen the elf comb his hair once. It must've been magic or something of the like that kept his hair so neat. But this adventure had been getting to everyone, so it wasn't too much of a surprise. Maybe it just looked better than it felt.

Shrugging, it was none of his business and he didn't care about anything other than his mission. He took off his glove, and Gimli reached into the depths of his bag and scooped up a generous amount of slushy liquid, carefully tended to during the day. Bending down, still with one one hand in the sleeping man's hair he started to smear it though the strands, smirking contentedly as he did so. He dug around through the slush in his bag for a while, fishing up clumps of reed and other disgusting physical things he managed to find at the river. The dwarf made short work of it tying it to unlucky strands of hair and burying some close to his victim's scalp, making it extremely annoying and difficult to wash out.

Heheheh, he's gonna get a big surprise when he wakes up! Serves you right you smug elf! Gimli thought wickedly in his head at the unsuspecting figure.

After about a half an hour, his handiwork had been completed! Sadly, it had been dark throughout his little makeover, for the moon was too shy to show its face. Pity, he would have liked to see his job well done.

Slowly he crept back out making sure not to wake anyone and crept away to bury the evidence. Still congratulating himself, he resumed his watch after a brief wash, humming merrily until the blood red sun began to creep up the treetops and the birds began to sing.